Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition (21 page)

U
alan growled like a thundering brute
. Gripping the center horn of his mount, he swung up behind the beast’s bare shoulders. The ceffyl’s wide back shifted low at the weight of its warrior rider, not seeming to mind the rough handling. His fanged mouth darted open with a hiss of its long tongue. It had the eyes of a reptile, the face and hooves of a beast of burden, and the body of a small elephant. When properly motivated it was wickedly fast for an animal of its size and equally deadly.

Adjusting the long blade at his side, Ualan snarled.

“There will be enough blood for all of us,” Zoran said, seeing his brother’s mounting rage, though not exactly disapproving of it. He too swung up on his animal.

“Your wife will recover,” Olek said, joining them. “You heard the doctors. They scanned her and her mind is well.”

“Not if I strangle her into the grave.” Ualan’s face shifted briefly to dragon in his rage.

Olek and Zoran exchanged troubled looks as the king rode up beside them. The king looked at the two princes in question. They merely shrugged in return.

Turning to Ualan, he said, “You don’t have to come. We won’t fault you if you want to stay.”

“That’s not it,” Olek said.

“He wants blood,” Zoran added.

“As do we all,” the king agreed

“There is not enough blood in all the land to kill a husband’s wrath when he has tasted the bitterness of his wife’s deceit.” Ualan nudged his steed, murder flashing in his yellow eye as the ceffyl took off. The others were quickly behind him.

“
T
hey’ve gone
where to do what to whom?” Morrigan regarded Queen Mede from where she’d sunk exhaustedly into the depths of Ualan’s couch. She hadn’t seen him since his brief visit in the medical ward that morning. She could barely remember it, except there had been dragons and dancing lights and, wait, no, that part was a dream. The drugs the doctors had given her to flush out the poison were strong. He hadn’t been back since.

So much for a caring husband.
She frowned.

“The doctors said you should have stayed in the medical ward,” the queen said. She was dressed simply in cotton slacks and a shirt, not looking anything like royalty in her attire. It was her intelligent eyes and regal posture that gave her position away.

“They gave me a monitor. If I need them, I push a button. If my heart stops, it tells them.” Morrigan held up her wrist. “Where are they?”

“I also need to ask if you intend for the servant, the one who served you the tainted drink, to continue to starve in the prisons.”

Morrigan frowned. “No.”

“So he can be forgiven for setting down the drink on the table? You’ll pardon him for his part in the—”

“Yes, pardon, whatever. He didn’t poison me. King Attor did,” Morrigan interrupted, growing more impatient by the second. “Now, where’s Ualan gone?”

“To get justice,” Queen Mede answered calmly.

“Justice? How?” Morrigan pushed forward in concern. “Will there be danger?”

The queen considered her carefully. “Most certainly.”

She said it like it was a good thing.

Morrigan stared at the queen as if she had grown another head. She tried to get to her feet. “Where is he? I need to see him.”

Queen Mede stood back, refusing to interfere with the woman’s will to stand. Though if she’d talked to Morrigan’s doctors to know she wasn’t encouraged to leave the medical ward, the woman also probably knew Morrigan wasn’t supposed to be moving around too much. As the sensations of pinpricks exploded over her legs, she fell back with a huff.

The doctors were right. That was a mistake.

“I respect your desire to pick up arms, but you are in no position to ride out. Do not fret. None of the other princesses have gone to fight. You are not being left out.”

“Gone to fight?” Morrigan stared in horror at her mother-by-marriage. Were Qurilixian wives expected to go to battle with their men? She turned to look at the dragon beasts on the blue tapestry. She knew a lot of aliens believed all citizens should take up arms. Did this one? “I don’t know how to fight.”

“That is probably for the best, since you’re not a…” Queen Mede smiled, stopping herself from finishing. “What I mean is, you do not know your own strength, daughter. Only a fighting spirit could have withstood the butterfly poison. And I am guessing that only a fighting spirit could have resisted her husband with slavery. You might not pick up a sword, but there are other weapons that are just as powerful.”

Like a laser blaster?
she couldn’t help thinking. Swords? Were these people serious? Cooking every night was barbaric enough, but primitive weapons? What if the other side had lasers?

Morrigan thought about what queen said. There was approval in her tone. When she called her “daughter”, Morrigan nearly teared up. She’d been on her own for a long time. She had no family left on New Earth. Suddenly, it hit her. Here she had a family, a strong, close, protective family. And they all wanted her to stay.

Thinking of Ualan, Morrigan knew the queen was right. It had been harder to resist him than it had been to fight off death. How did she ever do it? Why had she even wanted to try? None of the rest seemed important anymore. Not if they had a chance of working it out and being happy.

Would it be so bad to be the barbarian prince’s wife?

Could she really give up her career and wanderlust?

Could she live in a primitive world?

“What happens if he…” Morrigan couldn’t finish.

Queen Mede’s face tightened slightly in discomfort. “My sons are highly trained warriors. Trust me, they use their weapons well. It’s not like they ride to the battlefront to fight a war, just a small skirmish. You are new to this world, but I assure you, you do not need to question their honor. They will be victorious.”

The words did little to comfort her worries. Morrigan dutifully nodded and the queen relaxed.

“Are all men on this planet as stubborn as your son?” Morrigan asked.

The queen smiled. “Only if you’re lucky, dear. Only if you’re lucky.”

Q
ueen Mede had promised
her son she would check on her sick daughter-by-marriage. She wondered what Morrigan could have said to make Ualan so angry. He had been a wreck since finding her poisoned and no amount of comforting would ease his pain or his guilt. So they had done what was best and left him alone. Even though the queen could read the fury in her son when he said this woman’s name, she could tell he cared for her deeply and would never hurt her.

In visiting, she had hoped to discover what was happening with her oldest son and his new wife. Now that Morrigan was pardoned, she’d hoped they could begin to form the bonds of family. Queen Mede desperately wanted daughters. Her entire life, she’d been surrounded by dragon-shifting men. In her younger days, she looked down upon humanoid women as weaker and needing to be protected—even though her own mother was human. It took marriage and time to discover a woman’s strengths rested in more than her sharp talons. Part of the queen hoped she could find a piece of her human mother in these new princesses. Her parents had been gone a long time, and though she saw traces of her father in the dragons around her, she did not have many reminders of her mother. Well, except the recipe for sugared biscuits.

“Are you hungry? I made you these,” the queen reached to the plate she had set down on a small table.

“I don’t think I can eat,” Morrigan said. She tried to hide her worry, but it was there in her face. The princess cared for Ualan.

“Perhaps later.” The queen placed the small plate back down. Morrigan turned her attention to her hands, not saying much as she became lost in her own thoughts.

That was one thing the warrior men of her planet never understood. It took much more than crystals and destiny to win a woman’s heart. It took patience and time. And, sometimes, it took almost dying.

M
orrigan’s body
felt like it had been set on fire and thrown into a river of ice. How could a person’s skin be on fire while their blood seemed to be forming ice crystals? The fact that Ualan was out seeking revenge, or justice, or whatever it was he was doing—and she really couldn’t be one hundred percent sure because the queen’s answers were vague at best—didn’t help induce rest.

Mirox let it slip that something had happened to Princess Olena. She’d been taken by Var intruders because she was camping near the borderlands. When she pressed him for more details, he refused to answer and made an excuse to leave.

One princess poisoned. One prince stabbed. One princess kidnapped. Three princes and a king off doing gods know what. And the queen baked cookies.

This planet was nothing like Galaxy Brides had promised them.

Looking up at the light, she had no idea what time it was. She was too weak to leave the house, not that the door would let her. But she couldn’t sleep. The tapestry of the dragon fight kept drawing her attention and making her more nervous.

The door automatically opened. Morrigan jumped in surprise and held her hand over her racing heart.

The queen entered, not waiting to be invited. “I thought you would like to know that the men have safely retrieved Princess Olena from her captors and are heading back to the palace. Mirox informed me that he told you of Olena. In your condition I did not want to upset you.”

Morrigan took several deep breaths. She studied the queen’s face, trying to determine what else she might not want to tell her.

“No one expects you to greet them in the courtyard. I’ll relay your blessings.” Queen Mede turned to leave.

“Wait,” Morrigan said. The queen stopped and came back around to face her.

Why don’t you say Ualan’s name? Is he injured? Is he…?
She looked at the tapestry, to a slain embroidered solider, and was unable to say the words out loud.

“Thank you for coming personally to tell me,” Morrigan said instead. The queen nodded and left.

She didn’t think it possible, but time seemed to go even slower now. Nervously, she forced herself to walk over to the hidden bar for a small drink. The liquor burned her sore throat, but it did its job in dulling her senses by a tiny degree.

Morrigan stared at the glass, swirling the amber liquid in tiny circles. The door opened and she looked up from the table in surprise.

Seeing Ualan, she pushed to her feet. She wobbled slightly, still weak from her ordeal. Her pleasure turned to alarm when she saw his blood splattered face. His clothes were wet with crimson, his hair matted to his head with dirt and sweat. The reality of what he’d done looked much worse than what her imagination had come up with. She’d let the queen’s calmness over the situation influence her. But, that was real blood. He’d been in real danger.

Trembling, she stumbled toward him. “Are you injured?”

Ualan didn’t answer.

“Ualan?” Morrigan let her fingers roam over his damp chest, searching for wounds. She glanced at the gore-covered sword hanging at his waist. He winced when her fingers skimmed his ribcage. Satisfied that it was only the one injury, she demanded, “Why weren’t you wearing armor? Are you insane?”

“Stop pretending. What would you care if I were slain?”

“What?” She gasped. Seeing his tired eyes, she forgave him. The relief of finding him whole was enough reason to ignore his surliness. “How bad is your side? Did you go to the medical ward? Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Ualan shrugged out of her grasp. “I do not require your help, wife.”

“But—” Morrigan’s eyes rounded in surprise.

“Quit coddling me, woman.” He jerked his arm from her tender hands. Roughly, he pushed past her, spinning her weakened body on its heels as he stormed into the bathroom. He acted as if he would have slammed the door for good measure, but it was broken off its hinges.

Morrigan waited, using a decent amount of energy to stay upright. After a few seconds, she heard splashing in the hot spring. Putting her hands on her hips, she shook her head, “Oh, no he did not just do that.”

With her limbs empowered by determination, Morrigan went after him. She leaned against the doorframe for support and stared him down. Ualan poked at a gash on his side. When she cleared her throat for attention, he looked up in surprise.

“First you want a wife,” she yelled angrily, “and you get mad when I want nothing to do with you. Now you’re yelling at me because I was worried about you? I think not, caveman.”

“Rigan.” Ualan’s tone warned her to use caution.

“Quiet,” Morrigan commanded, her eyes flashing. “You wanted a wife. Well, guess what buddy, you’ve got one.”

“Have I?”

“Oh, yeah, and so help me, you are going to let me tend that wound, help you with this bath, and then I am going to make you dinner if it kills both of us.” Morrigan dared him to disagree, before adding, “And with my cooking, it probably will.”

“How are you going to do all of this? You can barely stand.” He purposefully looked her over.

“Just try to stop me.” Although her body hurt like it’d been dragged through hell and he was stiff and unresponsive, Morrigan managed to wash his skin and hair. Her fingers faltered as she neared his erection. He might be in a sour mood, but his body responded to her. His eyes flamed with liquid fire when she ran her soapy hand down the length of him. She waited for a sign of his approval.

Standing abruptly, Ualan stated, “I think you’re done.”

Morrigan drew back, slightly mortified by the quick rejection. So, yes, she appeared frightening with her fading yellow patches and tired face. He fared little better.

Ualan climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around his waist, shielding the obviousness of his desire from her view.

Morrigan wasn’t so easily put off once her mind was set. “Where is your first aid?”

Ualan looked at her in confusion.

“Bandages.” She pointed to his seeping stomach. Now clean, the wound wasn’t so bad. She kicked his bloody clothes into a pile on the floor, out of the way.

Soon they were on the couch, his arm lifted over his head as she poked at his wound. Ualan glared, but said nothing.

Forcing her tone to be as pleasant as she could manage, she asked, “So are you going to tell me what happened?”

“No.” The word was abrupt and final.

As soon as the bandage was finished, he said, “I’m going to bed.”

Morrigan glanced at his towel where the heavy protrusion still vied for her feminine attention.

“Would you like me to come with you?” She stood to touch his arm. Her body was weak and she wasn’t sure how she’d manage to perform, but she didn’t care. She’d been so scared with him gone, and would be content to just hold him, to hear him breathe. Slowly, her fingers trailed to again touch his bandaged waist.

Ualan took her hands in his. For a moment, she was sure he would kiss her. To her astonishment, he pushed her away from him and let her go. Without a word, he walked alone to his bedroom, leaving her to sleep alone yet another night.

A
re you injured
?

Ualan arrived home victorious and the only thing she can think to ask him was “are you injured”?
As if it was to be assumed he would be
.
It was an insulting question and Ualan couldn’t believe she expected him to answer it.

As she’d tended him like a wife should, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t concentrate. When he worried she was dying, he had been so scared. He’d never prayed for anything like he prayed for her safety. Then she awoke and had said those words that replayed in his brain a thousand times.

It’s my job. I’m going to expose you after I leave you.

Morrigan planned on leaving him. She had lied to him. She had no intentions of staying and being his wife. It was a most cruel betrayal. Then there was the camera. She said it was her job to expose him. Expose him to what? To whom?

Ualan knew what she offered. He nearly went mad when her hand dipped to clean his arousal. Her need had shone in her dark eyes. Even now his body tingled with treacherous desire. He didn’t want to feel anything for her.

He understood the deceit that lingered behind her gaze and yet she managed to draw him in. He wanted to believe she cared what happened to him, that she wanted to be with him, that she might even love him. He wanted it more than anything.

The ache he felt was almost unbearable as he fell exhausted on the bed. Lack of food and sleep, combined with the physical excursion of a fight, left him too tired to think. She was alive and awake. The rest he’d figure out later.