Taming the Dragon Collection

Taming The Dragon Collection

By Jessica Ryan

Copyright © 2014 Jessica Ryan

All Rights Reserved
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Published by Jessica Ryan Books

Cover Art by Yoly Cortez of Cormar Covers

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

CONTENT WARNING
: This short story contains adult material with explicit sexual situations and language. All sexually active characters in this work are 19 years of age or older.

PLEASE NOTE:
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains sexually explicit scenes, graphic language and may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

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TAMING THE DRAGON PART 1

Chapter 1

Mara looked back at the forest they had just exited and sighed. There was more and more distance between her and her home with each cold, snow-covered step. This wasn’t how she had expected her first major journey with her soon-to-be husband to play out.

She looked up ahead of her, at the back of the man who had come to her village just two days before, promising to take her away to a life of riches and privilege if she’d just help him find his way up the mountain. He was Val Woodshadow, the most famous dragon-slaying knight from Escrimea’s crown city: Atherny.

But they were a long way from Atherny, as far north as a person could go without dipping into barbarian lands. On the very edge of the wilderness, at the base of the great mountain, lay Mara’s village: Husavik. Val had ridden in with a group of squires to carry his belongings and bards to scribe his tale and sing his praises. There had never been such fanfare for a visitor in Husavik.

Mara’s father, Erik, had immediately invited the brave knight to stay in his house and eat at his table. Val had been polite enough, even if there was an underlying bit of arrogance to be seen on his face. Mara had dismissed it as confidence, though; who wouldn’t be confident, with the long list of accomplishments that Val had? On top of that he was the most handsome man Mara had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

As she sat at her father’s table, surrounded by village elders and their families, she couldn’t help but notice the difference in Val and the other men her age. They were all wide and husky, with gigantic forearms from chopping wood and hunting. All of their noses looked like they’d been smashed with the flat side of their axes and their hair was a wild, tangled mess of blond or brown that sat on a pale face hardly touched by the sun.

Meanwhile, Val’s skin was a beautiful olive tone that worked perfectly with his silky, long black hair and dark, fiery eyes. He was tall, but wasn’t broad and bulky like the men of her village. Instead he was sleek and fearsome, like a wolf on the prowl. One look at him politely eating his food, instead of shoveling it in like the other men, made her bosom heave and her nether regions grow hot and sticky.

These feelings intensified tenfold when Val first made eye contact with her. At first she was sure it was a mistake, but throughout the meal she would look up to see Val’s eyes landing on her and the slightest hint of a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.

No man had ever looked at Mara like that before. It wasn’t because she wasn’t pretty; no, that wasn’t the case at all. Her waist wasn’t the thinnest, but she wasn’t a shield wife either. On top of that, her skin was unblemished and her bosom was substantial. Her blonde hair was always neat and kempt and her father told her she had the bluest eyes in the kingdom. But being the daughter of the village elder meant most men would just as soon find a wife in the local bar rather than play the political games necessary to win Mara’s hand.

Fortunately, Val was no stranger to political games and he didn’t make it a secret that he was lusting after the elder’s fine daughter.

That night after everyone had cleared out, Val had joined her father by the fire for a drink. Both had thought she was off to bed; instead, Mara positioned herself in the stairwell, out of sight, to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Your daughter is an impressive girl,” Val said. His voice was cold and sharp, like the edge of a blade.

“Mara?” Erik asked dismissively. “She’s just a girl, sir.”

“I find my eyes drawn to her,” Val said. “I’m more than interested in what she has to offer me.”

“As far as?”

“Well, first off, as far as finding my way through the infernal forest outside your village and to the correct path in the mountains.”

“But, sir,” her father protested. “Mara does not know her way around the forest and the mountains as well as one of my sons would.”

“This may be true,” Val said, pausing momentarily. Mara could feel her heart jumping into her throat as he paused. Was he changing his mind about her? “But I do not make it a habit to take other men on my journey to slay dragons. They see the glory for themselves, get in the way, that kind of thing. I’d much prefer a woman as beautiful as your daughter to accompany me. Now, she’s lived here her entire life. Surely she knows something, no?”

Mara almost collapsed down the stairs. It was as if she was suddenly weightless and free from the shackles of village life. The handsome knight wanted her and only her to accompany him.

“My daughter is unwed and does not know the touch of a man, sir,” her father said. “It would not look good to the other elders for her to accompany a man into the great white unknown by herself.”

“Then I will wed her,” Val said matter-of-factly.

Mara bit her bottom lip hard, trying not to squeal as she made sure she had heard what he said correctly. Did he really want to wed her? This was it; this was her opportunity to finally see the world. She could escape ho-hum village life and really see what a city was supposed to look like. She would finally be in the capital city, able to eat a variety of foods imported from around the globe, able to try on the finest silks, and she would meet new and exciting people every day. She wouldn’t be just anyone; she’d be the wife of a famous knight.

“My daughter?” her father asked incredulously. “You want to marry my daughter? My little Mara? Surely you jest.”

“I never jest,” Val said. “Think of what it would do for your village. I’m sure when your daughter has influence and prestige she’ll want to see her daddy and his people taken care of. I am fairly popular in Atherny. If I want to give my wife a trade route for her birthday, then that’s what I’ll do.”

She heard her father’s chair move as he stood up. “Mara? Are you up there, Mara? We need to speak now!”

That was the day before. When Mara had been so full of hope and wonder. Now she had nothing, nothing but blisters on her feet from trudging behind the blowhard who would soon call himself her husband. For the last day and a half all she had heard was how great Val Woodshadow was and how powerful he was. He was a star in Atherny, unable to walk the streets without being mobbed by the women of the city. Young boys followed him everywhere, hoping to become his next squire. He never paid for anything, because the merchants were more than happy to give him every item he requested for free.

At first Mara had been impressed, but the men in her village were humble. The more she heard Val’s brags, the more she soured on him. Could he ever truly love her when he was so obviously in love with himself?

The only words she could get out of Val were about himself. At first she had tried to tell him a little bit about herself and her past, but the coldness she felt from him was enough to freeze her tongue. He only smiled when recounting a story about his past. Those were the only words he spoke to her.

“We are exiting the forest now, sir,” she said from behind him. “I trust I have gathered enough firewood as you requested?”

Val turned and looked back at her, his eyes showing none of the love or warmth he had shown at the dinner table. He gave a casual glance to the bundle of sticks she had strapped to her back and nodded. “That will be more than enough to lure the dragon.”

“Sir,” she asked, trying to catch up to him, but his strides were too great. “Why do you have need of me on this journey? You appear to know the way just fine.”

“Nonsense,” he said with a chuckle, still not turning to acknowledge her. “You are doing a fine job as a guide.”

“But you have been leading the way, sir,” she said.

“Have I?” he said, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I guess you’re just that good. Now less talky and more walky.”

Mara looked at the ground and shuddered. It wasn’t the first time he had admonished her over the last day and a half. It was like he didn’t want her here, he was just tolerating her.

“Sir, can we stop and rest?” Mara asked. “My feet are killing me and it’s almost mid-afternoon. We have gone for quite some time without taking a break.”

“Are you not made from sturdier stuff?” Val asked, stopping and turning back to her. “I thought you shield wives were part oxen.”

“I am not a shield wife,” Mara said, taking offense at his words. A shield wife was the name for a large woman, usually of the same ancestry as the barbarians, who could handle herself just as well in a fight as her husband. They gathered the name because they carried the husband’s shield into battle and took it up if he fell.

“Oh, of course not,” Val said, turning and walking back towards her. She began to back away as he stalked toward her. There was a predatory gleam in his eyes as he looked her up and down. She continued to back away until she was stopped by a rock jutting up from the mountainous trail they had found themselves on. It was about four feet high, perfect for her to lean against. She felt the bundle of sticks clatter to the ground as it slipped off her back. Val looked at it before turning his eyes back to her and smiling again. “You want to please your lord husband, do you not?”

“You are not my lord husband yet, sir,” she said, trying not to make eye contact with him. Every time they made eye contact she grew incredibly uncomfortable. That night at her father’s table, his gaze had filled her stomach with butterflies and left her with nothing but smiles. Now it twisted her stomach into a knot and made her face burn.

“I will be,” he said, stopping right in front of her. He placed his hands on her hips, leaning in to her as he used his knees to force her legs apart. The old brown dress she wore began to hike up her legs, nearly exposing her to him. She tried to look away, but his face was now right beside hers as he began to sniff her neck, like some kind of beast sniffing its kill.

The feeling of a man as beautiful as Val this close to her should have had her exploding with giddiness. She had never been touched like this by a man before and the sensation to her body should be overwhelming. Her inner thighs should be wet with arousal and the heat coming from her nether region should be palpable. But she felt none of that. Her skin was cold and clammy and there was definitely no arousal emanating from her sweet spot. This was wrong, very wrong.