Dragonborn (The Jade Lee Romantic Fantasies, Book 1) (32 page)

She jerked away from him, speaking without thought. "No—"

He moved so quickly, her word was cut off on a gasp. "Yes, Natiya," he hissed in her ear as his hands suddenly roved freely over her breasts, her belly, and then delved deeper between her thighs. She could not fight because his grip was like iron. "You will give me everything." He abruptly tightened his hold. Pain shot through her from the press of the hard egg deep into her spine, the clawlike grip of his fingers as he burrowed deeper into her, and the binding of his arm across her chest. D'greth, she had never known anything this strong, this crushing. She couldn't breathe! She heard screaming in the distance—Pentold, Sabina, all the prisoners—but the sound was fading as darkness ate into her vision. Then, he suddenly released her. She fell to the filthy floor while blessed air filled her lungs.

"Everything, Natiya. You will give me everything."

She shook her head, though the movement increased her headache a thousandfold. "Your threat means nothing," she gasped. "You need the Queen. Kill me, and you don't have her."

"After the hatching—" he began.

"Even you would not risk an insane Queen dragon. Especially you, since you would not be able to control her." She forced herself to stand, though her legs could barely support her weight. Then she faced him, her words choking her, but it was the only leverage she had. "Very well," she said. "I will give you my body and my loyalty. In return, I get the keys to all your prisons. I judge, I condemn."

He folded his arms across his chest. "I need two prisoners a day for the Copper's food." He smiled. "So will you."

She shrugged. "Our dragons will have food. I will see to it." What food, exactly, would be up to her.

He laughed, the sound harsh and grating. "Life has become somewhat tedious of late. I look forward to watching you struggle."

She held out her hand. "The keys, my lord."

He grinned and dropped the keys into the slime, continuing to lecture as if he could not stop himself. "Destiny is only as powerful as one's army, my lady. And I have something to show you exactly how inexperienced you are, how very much you are still ruled by your passions."

A cold shiver of fear slid down her spine. What had she missed? She was not given time to ponder, for the Emperor grabbed his lantern, stepping with long strides to the back of the room, to the very last cell and a dark figure standing against the bars. Lifting the lantern, he let the light shine fully on the man, the only man who could completely upset her every plan.

Kiril.

"Yes, my dear," the Emperor continued, his voice mocking. "The man you ordered killed, but whom I kept alive. The man who lied to you and used you in the worst possible way. He hates all dragons, you know, and despises the dragonborn even more. And you intend to free him." He held the light, making sure it shone on Kiril's face. Then he turned and walked back to her. "Do you know the moment when you will become a true Queen, my dear?" He didn't wait for her answer, but said: "The moment you put him back here—this murderer of dragons—back into a cage where he belongs. You will not kill him out of passion or couple with him out of lust. You will think logically and clearly—like a Queen—and put him in storage—"
 

"In prison," she corrected in a harsh whisper.
 

Dag Racho dipped his head in acknowledgment. "For use when he is needed, and safely contained when he is not. Then you will be a true Queen." He turned as if to leave, but then stopped. "Oh, and if you give yourself to him in any way—a caress, a kiss, a touch of any kind—then our deal will be forfeit. You will have bargained all this for nothing."

She stared at him, horror seeping into her soul. "You cannot think to control my every action, to know—"

"I can, my dear," he said with absolute certainty. "I know everything. I hear from spies, from our dragons, from all kinds of secret magics everywhere. Touch him, Natiya, and I will know."

And without another word, he turned and walked away. He left her alone there with the keys and her criminals, allowing her to choose their fate and thereby create her own. But what was she to do with Kiril?

Chapter 14

Kiril watched the Emperor depart. He also watched Natiya hand the keys to Pentold, murmuring about releasing the other prisoners. He even saw Sabina press forward, watching for her opportunity to snatch the Queen egg as they had originally planned. But then she slid backward in disappointment as a half-dozen soldiers filled the hallway, reporting to their queen to serve as her assistants. Guards, more like, but Kiril barely noticed where they stood or what they did.

He was watching Natiya. He saw those other things as a warrior notices his surroundings: out of habit, not attention. His focus was fully and completely riveted on Natiya. She was nearing the hatching, likely no more than a day or two away; he had never seen a woman so near. Indeed, she was the only female dragonborn he'd ever heard of, and he was stunned by how... womanly she still appeared.

True, her belly was swollen as if she bore a child—or perhaps three human babes, for a dragon egg was that large. But her hair had a luster and her skin a kind of glow that made one notice her. And in addition to the fact that her breasts seemed larger and her curves more pronounced, there was something else. Something vastly different in her carriage, in the way her eyes studied him, in her very demeanor.

It wasn't confidence, exactly, because he caught a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. Not even strength, because she seemed almost feeble in the way she waddled closer to him. So, was it faith? Hope? Determination? They all fit, and yet they did not seem quite correct.

He blinked, frowning as he fought for a label to attach to her. He could not. All he could think was that she was Natiya—strong enough to negotiate toe to toe with Dag Racho, the most powerful and dangerous man in the world. She might be uncertain of her path, but she seemed absolutely sure that she would prevail. And if she was wrong and failed, he knew she would accept the consequences with unflinching strength. He saw hope in her eyes and determination in her stance, and for the first time ever, he felt himself shrink under someone's regard.

Not even Dag Racho could reduce him to such a silent, deep feeling of shame. Natiya was someone he admired, someone he wanted to admire him. She'd said she loved him—and that he was a liar and a cheat.

He swallowed, appalled by what those words meant, by how much he must have hurt her, and by the knowledge that he had painstakingly earned each of those labels. He had indeed lied to her from the moment they met. He'd gone to Talned's inn specifically to search for her, doing everything he could to get her to trust him so that she would betray her every secret to him. Because he had thought she could give him a lead on the Queen egg.

Well, he thought wryly, stupidity had always been one of his attributes.

It didn't matter that he hadn't intended to hurt her. He hadn't planned on the lust that had burned—that still burned—through his body. But between his lies and the dragon magic, he had cheated them both out of a true relationship, possibly even a friendship. Because in the precious days they'd shared together, he had been intent on seducing her, not learning about her or getting to know her. So he had cheated them both, and for that he felt a shame that nearly brought him to his knees.

Still, she simply looked at him—and he at her—while all around them prisoners were set free. Guards grumbled, holding their swords at the ready, but they never made a move.

"Natiya," Kiril began, not knowing what to say or why. Merely that, after a week locked in this fetid prison, he wanted to say something beautiful.

"My dragon is not evil," she said, softly, her eyes never leaving his. "She... we are trying to do what's right." She looked about her, gesturing at the commotion behind them. "This could be a huge mistake, but I haven't got many options. I hope you understand that, and will give me—give us—a chance before you try to kill us."

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked. He hadn't intended to, but his words rushed out with a coarse burr. "Do you really...?" He couldn't even say the word.

"Love you?" she asked.

He nodded.

She opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out. In the end she simply shrugged, her whisper more defeated than anything else. "What do you want from me?"

Before he could find some way to answer, to express his regret for his actions, Pentold interrupted. He limped forward, his eyes darting with suspicious intent between Sabina—still waiting further up the hallway—and Kiril, who stood almost on top of Natiya, despite their being separated by the bars of his cell.

"Did you receive my books?" he asked in a bare whisper, and Kiril started at the apparent non sequitur. Natiya, too, seemed thrown, and she twisted to frown at the poet. "I sent them through the castle librarian," he continued, pressing the cell keys into her hand. "They would have arrived a few hours ago."

Natiya shook her head. "I don't know. He was always sending me books."

Pentold touched her arm, gently drawing her away from Kiril. "Find them, Natiya. It's important."

"Why?"

Kiril saw the poet glance significantly behind him, subtly indicating the guards near Sabina, all of whom watched and listened with clear interest. They had been speaking in an undertone. Indeed, Kiril doubted that even Sabina with her excellent hearing could understand the words, but Natiya took the warning to heart.

She frowned at the soldiers and gestured them away. "What are you doing here? Go help the inmates find baths and see to their food."

The closest and burliest guard bowed with respect, but when he straightened he did not move. Instead, he smiled with false humility. "Apologies, my lady, but the Emperor ordered us to protect you with our very lives. Those other tasks"—he sneered when he said it—"have been given to new recruits."

"But I have no need for protection, sirrah," she said. "They are all gone." She gestured, indicating that the prisoners were all gone, and thus her reasons to fear.

Again the guard bowed, but Kiril recognized derision in the gesture. "Not all the prisoners, my lady. And even if the entire mountain were deserted, we would remain by your side. Your life is very important to the Emperor."

Natiya sighed. Kiril heard the sound distinctly, even though she was looking away from him. Then she turned back to Pentold. "I have done nothing today but buy a little time. Go, while you still can. Leave Ragona before the hatching."

The poet shook his head, grasping her hands and bringing them up to his lips to press fervent kisses along her fingers. "I will not leave you."

"You cannot help me, and it will hurt too much to see him catch you again. Do not make my work here for nothing." Then she leaned forward, and while Kiril clutched the nearby cell bars in irrational jealousy, he watched her press the tenderest of kisses to the poet's cheek. "Please, be safe. For me."

Kiril saw uncertainty in the way the poet would not look into her eyes as he tried to convince them both of a lie: "I can still help you. Even if I don't have influence, my father does—"

Natiya was not fooled. "That coin was forfeit the moment you were locked inside here. You cannot help me now." She lifted his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Please, my old friend, do not make me beg. Go. Now."

To his credit, the poet wanted to argue. He obviously searched his brain for a way to help, but they all knew he had already played out his hand. And so, in the end he bowed his head. "I would have showered you with riches, Natiya," he whispered. Then, before anyone could say more, he left.

Kiril watched the man go, knowing the poet for a better man than he. The poet had given everything he was—honestly—in the hope that Natiya loved him. All Kiril had done was use her.

But now was not the time for self-recriminations or self-pity. He straightened his shoulders when he wanted to drop to his knees and faced Natiya with pride, though he wanted to kiss her feet and beg forgiveness. And he waited—like a man—for her decision.

Fortunately for his pride, she did not make him wait long. She stepped forward, unlocking his cell with quick twists of her wrists. "You should run too, Kiril. He will try to use you against me." She paused, looking into his eyes, silently pleading with him to understand. "I cannot let him do that. If he catches you, I cannot interfere. It would never end, and then I would have no power at all."