Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition (5 page)

Pyramid tents passed by her vision in a variety of colors. As she tried again to touch the fur covering him, Ualan turned to glance at her with a knowing smile on his firm lips that was reflected in his eyes. Morrigan jolted in embarrassment, blushing as she turned her eyes quickly away.

“Where are we going?” she asked, coming more to her senses as she shook herself free from the spell he cast over her.

Ualan stopped and turned around in surprise when she spoke. Even under the leather mask, she could tell he was handsome. He again glanced down at his crystal, momentary confusion passing over his hypnotic blue eyes. Moving near a tent, he tilted his head to the side, and said, “Come.”

Morrigan hesitated and shook her head in denial, not willing to follow his orders like an insipid female. She tried to leave. An unfamiliar sensation tugged inside of her, warring within her limbs. Part of her wanted to obey him, but her logical mind did not let her move forward. This was not part of the plan. This wasn’t part of her assignment.

Oh, but he was attractive in that accursed loincloth.

Around the campsite she could see the chosen brides ducking into the various tents with hardly a protest. She heard shouts of merriment drifting about on the breeze from the married couples in their own celebration. The bonfires still burned bright, music still played, encouraging people to dance in celebration. Morrigan had yet to see the musicians.

The curse of an inquisitive mind overcame her and she had the strangest urge to go exploring. When else would she get such a chance? Beginning to take a step back from the tent, Morrigan said to Ualan in growing distraction, “Go ahead and get started without me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Ualan followed her eyes to the table where the married couples sat enjoying each other’s company. His jaw tensed as she tried to move away from him.

“Come,” he ordered, his tone growing harsh.

“Relax, buddy,” Morrigan eased, with no intention of following him back to his quarters for a private party. That scenario ended the same way on every planet. Give the girl some wine, grunt “me Ualan, you pretty, come”, and wouldn’t you know it, you had yourself the makings of a private orgy and a killer hangover.

No, but thank you just the same, caveman,
Morrigan thought with an amused laugh.

“Look, I’m sure you’re a swell guy and all,” she began, her tone patronizing as she refused to look at him. It was easier to control herself when she didn’t make direct eye contact. She started to move away.

Morrigan, realizing that she had left her ring on and it was still recording, was about to touch the emerald when she felt a hand on the back of her neck. Closing her eyes at that first warm caress, she nearly collapsed. His callused fingers dug into her long hair beneath the veil, pulling her forward. Her knees weakened. Her face turned and rested against his palm. She was no longer interested in the campsite when she saw his face hovering close to hers.

It was insanity. He was a stranger. She was in outer space on a primitive planet to do a story. If she was smart she would run away from him. Her legs wouldn’t move. She was stunned by him, captivated.

All right, so suddenly she wasn’t very smart.

Ualan held her back from his warrior-toned flesh, but she could feel the warm invitation radiating from his nearness. She smelled the exotically bestial scent of him—so primal and raw. She licked her lips. Seeing the response, Ualan smiled, although he still looked baffled by her hesitance. Or was it something else she saw in his eyes? Fear? No, this godlike creature was too much of a warrior to fear her. Morrigan could be sure of that. Self-confidence radiated from his very nature.

“Come,” he said softly to her, pleading, urging her with that one simple word. Leaning forward, he nuzzled his smooth cheek tenderly to hers. The whispering caress sent her heart a-fluttering. With more authority straining his thick accent, he insisted again, “Come.”

Morrigan lifted her hands, this time able to touch his waist. She wanted to go with him. Who would ever find out? What could be more perfect? Tomorrow she would be gone and he would stay here. There would be no complications, no heartbreak. Only, would he expect her to marry him? It wasn’t as if he loved her. Surely, he wouldn’t be too disappointed when he discovered she was gone. He could always find someone else at the next festival.

Ualan’s skin was on fire, blazing with an animalistic heat. His finger rubbed over the pulse at the base of her neck. Morrigan trembled at the stroke. She waited for his kiss—sure she would die if she didn’t feel his mouth on hers. It didn’t come.

The tall warrior pulled back, looking deeply into her eyes. Then, glancing around the campsite as if determining whether anyone noticed them, he drew her forward, pulling gently at her neck to make her walk. Once her legs moved to follow him inside a blue-gray tent, she could not stop them.

“
M
y king
, the brides have all entered the tents.”

King Llyr looked up from where he nuzzled his wife’s throat. The royal couple shared a loving smile. The queen’s eyes glistened in pleasure with the playful hint of a shift. The night was warm and his wife’s body soft. All of their sons had been blessed this glorious evening with brides, as had at least three of their nephews.

“Thank you, Mirox,” Queen Mede answered for her husband. The servant bowed and left. When they were alone, if being raised over the celebrating crowds on a platform could be considered alone, she directed her thoughts at her husband so he could hear her words in his mind as she softly spoke them, so they wouldn’t be overheard, “The only thing that would have made this night better, is if all four of our nephews had found brides as well. I hear one of their crystals did not glow. I can’t imagine the disappointment poor Mirek must be feeling. He has tried so hard to find a bride and to continually not be blessed.”

“We have to trust that the gods have a plan for him,” he answered in the same way.

“I did not think I would feel so anxious. It will be a long night for the grooms, but an even longer night for us as we wait to see the outcome.”

King Llyr chuckled and leaned to kiss her. “I think these grooms have it easy. Do you remember our wedding night, my love? You are even more beautiful now than you were then.”

“So long ago,” she whispered, touching his cheek. “To think I almost didn’t marry you.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” he answered. “You could never resist my charms.”

The queen laughed. “If that is how my king wishes to remember the past, so be it.”

“Tomorrow we will extend our family. Our boys are good men, strong and true.” Though the king would never admit it, he too was both nervous and excited for his sons and nephews. This was a big night for them, perhaps one of the biggest they would ever face. For what good was living if a man did not have love and family. King Llyr looked at his wife. Hundreds of years they had been together and his love for her had never wavered. She was his heart. She still took his breath away. “Erase that motherly worry from your face. The borderlands are being patrolled. The Var king would not dare to cross over on this night. The war will not spill over onto our happiness. Not tonight.”

“But this night is different. Our sons… He—”

“I am sure they will all be blessed with good fortune and we, my queen,” King Llyr kissed the tip of his wife’s nose, “will be blessed with many grandsons and grandnephews.”

“I hope you’re right, my love, I hope you’re right,” the queen murmured, content to let her husband pull her fully into his embrace.

There was nothing they could do but wait until morning and King Llyr fully intended on taking advantage of the night.

M
orrigan’s fingers
itched to pull the mask from Ualan’s features, to better study his face. With a body like his, his features could have been scarred ugly and the girls would still have come running. He walked backward into the tent, taking her with him lest she try to move away again.

Leaving her standing alone in the middle of the tent, Ualan went to draw the front flap closed. Morrigan shivered. She wasn’t such a fool as to pretend she didn’t know what he wanted from her, looking at her with his come-hither eyes and touching her with his caressing hand. She had never really gotten this far on a date before, and this had to be the shortest date in recorded history. For all his abrupt words and evident physical strength, he didn’t feel menacing or lecherous.

The tent was very big with fur rugs laid out to cushion the dirt floor. Torches had been placed near the walls. She eyed the fire to make sure they were safe so close to the blue-gray sides. An immense bed sat in the middle as the unmistakable centerpiece. It was covered in satin and silk. Gauzy runs hung from the top of the tent to surround the furniture in a dreamlike haze.

Around the edges of the tent, at the three pyramid corners, were three very different arrangements, all blatantly erotic and hard to ignore. In the first corner sat a giant basin full of steaming water, surrounded by silk gauze curtains, and an array of bottles. The tub was large enough to fit both of them easily.

The second corner held a high back chair, leather binding straps, iron shackles, and an assortment of whips. Morrigan shivered anew. She had to turn away quickly, too embarrassed to be caught showing too much interest in the barbaric set up.

In the last corner, there was a relatively safe table of food and wine.

“Choose,” Ualan breathed near her ear.

Morrigan jumped, not realizing he had come so close to where she stood. Goosebumps tickled her flesh. She blinked, her head whipping around to study his face. The mask hid him from view, but it could not hide the lust in his eyes or the command in his words as he waited for her to act. This warrior reeked of potent sexuality.

“Ah, yeah…” Morrigan began, biting her lip. Thinking that the last table was the least threatening, she moved toward the food. A tray of chocolates, with nut toppings, was delicately arranged into a pyramid of temptation—probably out of one of those old, recalled food simulator units because true Lithorian chocolate was very expensive. There was fresh fruit, looking like strawberries, but deeper in color and much larger, with a brown cream sauce.

Morrigan ignored the sweets, grabbing a goblet of wine instead. She drank it in two gulps, sputtering it out in a mighty blast when she felt a hand graze lightly over her bare shoulder.

Ualan slowly picked up a chocolate and held it out for her to taste. She shook her head in denial. “Food simulator chocolate is known to make humans sick. You shouldn’t serve it.”

He turned the Lithorian logo toward her to show her it was the real thing.

“Oh.” Morrigan tried to take the offering with her fingers, but he gracefully eased past her hand and stuck it in her mouth. He watched in puzzlement, as she jerked away from him and shuffled nervously around the table out of his reach.

“Thanks, I can get it from here,” she mumbled around the large piece. Chewing the delicious morsel, she swallowed it and licked her lips, before wiping her mouth on her hand.

Ualan tilted his head in question.

“Listen,” Morrigan said. “I—”

“Shh.” Ualan shook his head. His eyes closed briefly, and when he again looked at her it was with a perplexed expression. Morrigan thought that for a man of many actions, he wasn’t a man of many words. Softly, he said, “Your name.”

“This isn—” Morrigan began, frustrated when he cut her off.

“Name,” he stated like an order, turning more serious. His arms crossed over his chest. She wondered if he knew how forbidding the stance made him look.

“Rigan,” Morrigan answered loudly in reaction to his hard tone, only to correct, “I mean Morrigan Blake. But, you can call me Rigan, everyone does.”

Should she have said her real name?

Did it even matter at this point? She wasn’t finding even a hint of a scandal worth writing about.

Pleased by her response, he nodded in approval and tried to reach for her again. Morrigan continued to ease away from his grasp as he rounded the table for her. He stalked her like a beast, his eyes intent and focused on her every movement.

“Now, if you please, I’ll be going,” Morrigan said, slowly making her way to the tent flap. She thought about running for the exit, but pictured him easily pouncing to catch her. “Thank you for everything and good luck with that wife finding thing. I hope it goes well for you and I wish the two of you many years of marital blissfulness.”

Morrigan did her best to smile as she lifted her hand tentatively. The gesture was more one of protection than of departure. He kept his hand out to her, as if he expected her to obey the silent command to go to him. The intensity of his molten gaze reminded her of a wild creature.

“It would not please me,” he uttered darkly. He dropped his hand and sighed in mounting frustration. Looking down at his crystal that shone brightly against his chest, he appeared bewildered by her rejection. There was a long silence, his stance challenging her to try and escape even as Morrigan knew he would easily overtake her if she were to run.

“Listen.” Morrigan tried to keep the condescending slant out of her tone, but it was hard. “I know you must be disappointed to have your little plans here spoiled.” She waved her hand over the erotically charged tent as she spoke. “But, no means no. So, better luck next time. There are plenty of other women out there who weren’t chosen by your fellow warriors. They would be most willing to come in here with you. I just don’t happen to be one of them. All of the other brides are eager to get bound—”

Ualan took a threatening step forward. Morrigan flinched as the move cut off her words.

“Back off, caveman,” she warned, going rigid and giving him her most withering glare. The look didn’t have the desired effect, as it solicited an arrogant smirk. Even so, it wasn’t amusement she saw in those deep blue eyes of liquid fire. He was livid.

What was she doing in this tent? Damn her constant curiosity to see just a little more. She should have stayed at the dining table with the other women. They were probably all back on the ship right now. What she needed to do was get some pictures, record some short useable clips and then crawl back to her assigned ship’s quarters for the trip home.

“Now, let’s just calm down a little, okay sparky,” Morrigan said, forcing her shoulders to relax. She eyed him warily, wondering if his grasp of the Old Star language was bad. That could explain the confusion. Slowly, she began to enunciate her words. “I do not wish to get married.”

He frowned.

“Now you,” she said as she pointed at him with her hand before walking her fingers in the air, “walk out there and find another woman from the ship. Grab her.” She shook her fist. “And lead her back to your bed.” By the time she had finished illustrating her words, she was gesturing at the bed.

He didn’t move.

“Do you understand?” she continued slowly, perhaps a bit too slowly in her ire.

His frown deepened.

“Great,” she muttered to herself. “Of all the warriors out there, I have to get the savage who can’t speak the universal language.” Eyeing him, she stated louder, “It’s called research, barbarian. You know, studying up before you take on a new task so you know what you are getting yourself into?” She paused. “Nothing?”

His frown turned into a full-blown scowl.

“I can’t talk to you, caveman. I’m sorry you don’t understand. I’m leaving.”

Spinning on her heels, she almost made it to the tent opening. Almost.

Ualan darted forward with the speed of a crashing comet. Taking her firmly by the shoulder, he stepped around her and blocked the exit. His eyes burned as he stared her down. It was either try to bravely mow him over or slowly retreat like a coward. Morrigan grimaced warily. She was definitely a coward.

P
rince Ualan watched
the woman before him. His whole body was tense with frustration. This is not how the elders foretold of the bridal night. He wanted to argue with her, but honor forbid it. He could only say as few words as possible when interacting with her. It was tradition. Maybe he wasn’t as blessed by the gods as he had been wont to think. This wench was proving to be the most aggravating of brides.

Why wasn’t she smiling at him?

He reached for her and again the timid creature nearly jumped out of her skin as if he might hurt her. Why would he hurt her? He wanted to marry her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, worshiping her, loving her, protecting her.

Ualan forced himself to calm down. Perhaps she was nervous. Her wide gaze kept looking over his body in a half-fascinated, half-wary sort of way. He knew she desired him. The crystal proved as much. Besides, even without the crystal, he smelled the effects of her desire. It teased his enhanced dragon-shifter senses.

The tents were rumored to intimidate some human women who had delicate sensibilities and were unused to a man’s attentions. Perhaps that was the reason she acted the way she did. Bluntly, he asked, “Have you been with a man?”

Morrigan gasped. She looked at him in a way that seemed both innocent and disarming. Her mouth worked, as she stuttered, “I-I…”

He tilted his head, waiting.

“That is none of your business!”

“Answer,” he urged patiently, heartened by her reaction because he thought to have his reason for her behavior. Being a male dominated race, his people were not so shy when it came to discussing sex. He had been warned that offworld women were different. When he instructed her to her new role, she would not be so shy—not that his vanity minded the way she blushed when he caught her looking at him like a starving mirascat.

“Answer,” she mocked, with a snarl. “Me Ualan, you woman—uh, uh.”

He let loose a long breath. His stiff mouth saying he was unamused by her humor. This woman was going to be a challenge. What had the gods blessed him with?

H
ave
you ever been with a man?

He barely said anything to her, and suddenly that was what he wanted to talk about? Morrigan tried to nervously laugh it off, but then an idea struck her. Her lids dropped over her eyes as she looked at the ground and lied, “Yes, yes I have.”

Ualan had come forward before she knew what he was doing. Morrigan blinked in surprise as he stopped directly in front of her. All right, maybe that had been the wrong thing to say. It didn’t appear like he’d been dissuaded from his task—so much for the theory that the Qurilixian preferred virgins.

He leaned over her. His hand caught her arm in its callused grasp. Whispering against her throat, he said, “Then you have no reason to deny me. Choose.”

Morrigan shivered at his nearness. Seeing his lips so close, feeling his breath against her skin, she was tempted to give up the battle. The warmth of his body radiated over her. Naked flesh was so close. All she had to do was lift her hand. Why was she fighting him so hard? It wasn’t as if she had a lot of male suitors back home vying for mattress time. It wasn’t like she really had a home, or friends who didn’t double as her boss giving her orders. All she had was work. As much as she loved her job, words on a screen could make for cold companionship.

She hesitated before answering and was about to allow him to kiss her when she saw his arrogant smirk. He thought she was some simple alien woman he could seduce with a nice smile and come-hither eyes. She’d met his type before. So much for giving in. Like she would let some primitive barbarian get the best of her. Oh, the battle was on. Now it was a matter of principle.

Morrigan didn’t care who this caveman thought he was. He could be the King of the Seven Galaxies for all she cared. You just didn’t treat women like a piece of steak to be pushed around and chewed on at will.

“You don’t understand,” Morrigan said. “I’ve been with several men. In fact, that is what my job is back on New Earth. I’m a prostitute.”

Take that, Ualan,
Morrigan thought, hard-pressed not to laugh when her words sunk in.
The mean ole barbarian didn’t like that one, did he?

“So, you see, you don’t want me.” Morrigan’s pulse raced. She was scared of him, but also intrigued by the assurance of his stance. She tried to pull away. He didn’t let go of her arm.

Her will weakened against the teasing promise of his lips as he moved closer. His piercing blue eyes studied her. The virile scent of his exotically oiled body did little to calm her racing heart and heating skin. Her words not as confident as before, she continued, “Why don’t you just wait another year for a virgin if you don’t like the other women here tonight? Surely you’ll have first choice since you struck out this year.”

Morrigan needed to get out of the tent and work, but her eyes begged her to stay for just a moment longer so they could look at him. In light of his touch, work didn’t seem so important. Her body wanted to stay and her mind…well, her mind was undecided. Since work was her life, Morrigan was puzzled by the revelation. Maybe it was the wine. That had to be it. She was just a little drunk.

“The crystal does not lie,” he stated, the confident words gruff. “The gods have spoken.”

“What…?” Morrigan glanced around his neck at the glowing pulse of the crystal. Instantly, she felt its power over her—tempting, inviting, demanding—just like its wearer. Her blood sang with the powers of the Qurilixian wine. In contrast to the wine on New Earth, the Qurilixian blend did not exactly encourage sleep. “I don’t believe in your go—”

“Silence.” His hand slid insistently over her arm, pushing down the silken strands woven around her limbs to hold them down. His thick accent rolled over her. “You question too much. You want this. Make your choice.”

Morrigan swallowed nervously. He appeared very sure of his hold over her and her attraction to him. She opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out. Ualan abruptly pressed his lips to hers in a bold kiss. His tongue parted her lips, drawing in her bottom lip to suck gently.