Dragon Flight (7 page)

Read Dragon Flight Online

Authors: Caitlin Ricci

Tags: #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #erotic Romance, #dragons

BOOK: Dragon Flight
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“Can’t help it. These people infuriate me.”

“Why?”

He leaned forward so that he could whisper in her ear. His breath was warm against her neck as it tickled the soft hairs at her nape. She found herself moving toward him, turning her head so that more of her shapely neck was exposed to him. Part of her wanted him to kiss the pale skin there, but another part of her dreaded the possibility.

“Because none of these men care about anything more than the crown. None of them will ever love you or even see you as more than a wife on their arms who looks pretty in their jewels as she turns an eye to his misdeeds.”

“And how do you see me?” she asked him as he leaned back.

He gave her a slight smile and turned away. “Any man worth your hand would see you as a woman to be cherished and protected while still respecting that you are certainly able to take care of yourself, as you have well shown these past few months.”

She leaned in closer to him, her heart speeding up. “And are you a man worth my hand, Zorin?” she asked him.

He shrugged her question off, but not before she saw the light blush dance across his tanned cheeks.

“I think you are,” she told him quickly before he could move further away. “And I think you’re a better man than any of these pompous arrogant wannabe kings around us.” She said it loudly enough that many heads turned and many scowls were sent her way. Amalthea seemed to storm away with a huff, causing Isabelle to giggle and roll into Zorin’s side.

A man slowly got up the courage to approach them. He was well dressed like the others with nothing but a slightly different hair color to set him apart from the throng of men eager to be the next Feeorin king. For Isabelle he held no interest. He wasn’t unattractive by any means, but like every other man there he was just so good looking and so well dressed and just so everything that as a whole Isabelle was done with the entire lot of them. They were boring and unoriginal. Not at all like—she quickly stamped out that idea. He who she refused to think about was probably perfectly happy up in his mountain home well away from her. Even this very minute he could be sharing his bed with that impossibly beautiful mate of his.

It was more than enough to turn her mood instantly sour.

“Have I given each of them enough of a chance yet?” she grumbled to Zorin.

He chuckled and shook his head no. She scowled at him until he spoke. “You haven’t even danced yet. Dance and try the cream cake and we shall see if you’re through.”

She rolled her eyes. “How many dances?”

“Three.”

“One,” she countered.

He chuckled. “Two.”

She shook her head no. “One. I will dance with the poor soul brave enough to approach us when no one else will and if he doesn’t step on me I will consider another dance.”

He grinned wickedly at her. “Fine. You will dance with that boy and then you will dance with me. Then we will eat cake and you’ll announce your engagement to whatever poor sap you’ve decided to marry and then we can be done with this ridiculous charade. Deal?”

“Deal.” She blew him a kiss before she flounced up to the man who looked extremely startled that she would even notice him.

“Care for a dance?” she asked him. He gaped at her so she took that to be an affirmative and stepped into his arms. He was rigid against her and although she barely knew more dances than any other woman her age would be expected to know, she had the urge to lead him around when it was obvious he was far too unsure of himself to be an adequate dance partner. She gave him the courtesy of staying with him for a song though before stepping back and mumbling a quick word of thanks.

He let out a breath of air and stumbled away from her as if relieved to no longer be the center of all that envious male attention. Now that she had decided to dance and the ice was broken as it were, men around her seemed to crowd for her attention, all of them eager for her approval and hopefully her hand in marriage. She frowned and hugged her arms over her chest as the men seemed unsure of themselves as they attempted to sort out who would approach her for a dance first. She knew many of these men from her time in Nuer and they had barely given her a cursory glance there. But now that she was going to be queen they were all salivating at the chance to be king alongside her.

“Repulsive,” Zorin spoke up from her side as if echoing her own thoughts. “Ask them a question,” he suggested as more men crowded around them. There were nods of agreement from the most eager men as they attempted to prove themselves to her.

“Anything?” she asked, moving close to the protection of his side. He nodded so she turned to the first man who met her eyes. She did know this man and despised him. He had been a friend of Andrew’s and just as cruel as her half-brother was before his death. “Would you take an impure wife?” she asked.

The man snickered as all gazes turned to him. The bastard probably thought she wanted to test his own purity and whether or not he would take a whore home. “No man of worth would take a whore to his bed.”

“And if the woman wasn’t a whore?” Isabelle pressed him. The man clearly didn’t see the anger gleaming in her eyes like the rest of them did. Only Zorin and the man across from her didn’t move away from her.

The man smiled at her. “Not a whore? Princess, any woman who spreads her legs for another man before marrying me is a whore.”

Before she could gasp in outrage, Zorin had closed his hand around the man’s neck and, with a flick of his wrist and the cracking of breaking bones, he fell at Zorin’s much larger feet. The surrounding men collectively moved back even more as Zorin again returned to her side.

“You killed him,” she said blandly as her gaze shifted to the men. Her reaction to the man’s death surprised even herself. A year ago she would have at the very least cried out and turned away at the sight of someone being murdered. But this day, standing next to Zorin and warmed in the protection of his shadow, she could only sigh at the waste of life that had been the man at her feet. And she was thankful that Zorin hadn’t made his death bloody.

“You baited him and knew what answer he would give. You caused his death, I was merely your tool,” Zorin replied with a nonplussed shrug. When she shrugged as well, he turned back to the men who all looked decidedly less arrogant. “Next question?”

Isabelle nodded and turned to the next closest man. “Would you accept coming after my brother in my heart?”

He shook his head, but seemed far less sure of himself than the dead man at his feet had been.

“And why not?” she asked.

The man swallowed thickly, looking from her to Zorin and then back again as if deciding how much was safe to say. Finally he took a breath and spoke. “I would not settle for less than all of a woman’s heart,” he said in a gentle voice clearly meant to placate her and Zorin.

She smiled softly at him. “And nor should you have to.” She turned to Zorin. “I grow weary of this party. Will you dance with me another time?”

He grinned at her. “And the cake?”

She shared his grin. It was lucky she had finally found a friend willing to share her love of sweets with as long as he learned how to share. “Will be consumed by the two of us and my brother tonight.”

He nodded. “Then you should make your announcement so that we can go.”

She nodded in agreement. “Gentlemen, thank you for coming. I would like to now announce my new king consort.”

“Who is it that you have chosen? You couldn’t possibly have chosen already. The party has barely started and you’ve only danced once. Take your time and choose someone you want to be with, Isabelle. Be smart about this. I urge you,” Amalthea pleaded with her as she silently came up behind them. Her gaze flicked to Zorin and his chin tilted briefly in greeting, but they exchanged no words.

“Zorin Danube is to be my king consort. Sadly, no other men here met my requirements for a husband. Thank you all for coming and I expect I’ll be seeing many of you again at the council meetings. Goodbye,” she told them before Zorin led her from the garden and back to her rooms. She ignored Amalthea’s hissed intake of breath at the shock of her announcement.

Honestly, the woman needed to make up her mind. Zorin would make a great king consort and the people of Feeorin loved him. Well, at least the humans did. She hoped that the Angelus of the city would learn to love him in time as well. But somehow she doubted it. If they hadn’t grown accustomed to him in the centuries he’d been alive and living among them, she doubted they would suddenly start to see things differently just because she took the throne. After all, you could never force a person to change.

“Meggie?” Isabelle called as soon as the door had closed behind Zorin. He had given her a small, reassuring smile as he left and somehow it had made her feel that much better about the decision that she was neither ready to make or enthusiastic about. She had just finished one marriage that was hardly her ideal. She wasn’t ready for another one. But duty said she had to be ready for it. And besides, Caden liked it here and she would never jeopardize his happiness in light of her own.

Meggie appeared at her side. Curiously she had come from the direction of Caden’s suite.

“Yes my lady?” she said, giving her a low curtsey.

“Help me out of this dress. I wish to be comfortable for cake and tea with my brother and Lord Zorin,” Isabelle told her as she began pulling the dress over her head.

“Have you already chosen your king consort?” Meggie asked as she pulled at the laces.

“Yes, Lord Zorin,” Isabelle told her. She expected at least some form of resistance in the girl, certainly the men in the garden had been all shocked by her announcement. But the girl’s face instantly lit up into a bright smile and the kind of genuine happiness that was nearly impossible to fake. Suddenly she looked much younger, perhaps even as young as Caden was.

“You don’t seem shocked,” Isabelle noted.

Meggie frowned in confusion. “I’m not. We humans all love our Lord Batal. He protects us and keeps us safe, even from the Angelus.”

Isabelle smiled and exhaled as Meggie pulled off the corset. “It sounds like I made a good choice.”

“You did,” Zorin agreed as he came in carrying a tray full of sandwiches and cake.

Isabelle was pleased to see that neither had been too disturbed by their guests. Perhaps they had lost their appetite after seeing one of their own murdered. Or perhaps it was after hearing that they were all found lacking. She really didn’t much care which as long as she wasn’t forced into a corset again today and she could spend the rest of the day enjoying the company of her brother and Zorin along with the luscious cake and a nice soothing herbal tea.

She gave him a quick glare though for interrupting her dressing without knocking and pulled a robe around her. She’d rather have put on a dress to greet her would be husband in but he didn’t seem like he would be willing to look away long enough and although the thin gown she wore was of a modest cut and length, it was much too sheer to be seen in by him or anyone else.

“Knock next time,” she scolded him as she stretched out on the couch opposite him and began eating some cake. “And why didn’t you have servants bring this up? Not that I’m complaining of course,” she told him. She moaned softly around a buttery creamy bite of the cake as it coated her tongue in its richness.

He grinned around a mouthful of roasted venison. “It’s faster my way. Have a sandwich, Meggie, and then go retrieve young lord Caden for me please,” he said to the girl.

She hesitated for only a moment before she took him up on the offer, taking one off the ham pile and quickly leaving the room. Caden joined them moments later and flopped down next to Isabelle’s feet before taking a cake and a sandwich for himself.

“How’s the husband hunt going?” he asked her bluntly.

Isabelle blushed even as her gaze shot to Zorin who gave her a reassuring, although small, smile. “Zorin has agreed to fill that position,” she told him.

Caden eyes narrowed on Zorin, seeing him as his sister’s husband and not just as his tutor and friend. After a moment he nodded. “Seems to be a good choice if you’re sure, Izzy?”

She sighed pleasantly for a moment before nodding. “I am.”

Caden nodded and settled deeper into the couch as he intently switched between eating his sandwich and the cake in his other hand.

Chapter Six

 

 

Isabelle walked briskly behind Amalthea. They hadn’t spoken about her choice of Zorin for king. By the stiffness of the queen’s spine and the thin line of her lips, Isabelle doubted she would have chosen him for the king. But Isabelle was confused. Didn’t Amalthea want them married? Didn’t she want her son as the king? Isabelle sighed irritably and kept walking. Really, it was the only way to get what she wanted. Finally. Zorin had promised to leave her alone and out of all but the most major decisions regarding Feeorin. She could live in the country, in her own manor. Away from everyone. She could spend time with Caden. She could go for walks in the woods. She could have a cup of tea and sit lazily by the fire if she wanted to without Andrew barking at her. Or anyone else for that matter.

That Zorin would be her husband was only a minor concern. She had lived with Faolan for over a year and had learned to love him. That would never happen with Zorin. She was sure of it. But at least they could be civil to each other and Caden adored him as only a child his age could. And that would be enough for her. It would have to be.

Isabelle looked over Zorin’s stoic expression with a frown. He had told her little about the meetings and she had never before been allowed to attend them. But she couldn’t imagine what would cause the heavy darkness in his eyes or the grim, fierce line of his mouth. She hoped that he would catch her watching him and give some explanation since she could hardly ask him what was bothering him at the moment. But he refused to look at her. She grumbled under her breath which got her a sharp look from Amalthea. Isabelle fought the urge to stick her tongue out at the much older woman and settled for a sheepish smile again.

This is hard for her.

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