Page 13 of The Mountain King
The forest returned fire. “We won’t make it,” Kai said, grim. “I want you girls to take Cinvarra and escape through the forest. Sere—you have any of those hand bombs?”
“You’ll set the forest on fire,” Persia said, curt. “We’re not leaving you.”
“Who’s more important? Your baby sister or me?” It was a low blow, according to the paleness of Persia’s face. Serephone didn’t blink, lips drawn and grim.
The eldest twin glanced at her mother once, eyes fierce, and nodded, grabbing Persia by the arm. “Let’s go.”
“What! I’m not leaving Ma.”
“You want Cin to be a sex slave? Let’s go. Ma knows what she’s doing.”
Kailigh didn’t have time to even blink back tears, or worry about whether the girls would be safe. Only to be grateful for Serephone’s brutal practicality. “Get to the constable. Go.”
And then the forest was on fire.
A roar echoed through the trees, and a man’s scream. The wild swish of wings overhead as a shadow blocked out the sun and swooped low, rose high into the air, and turned to dive again. Loud shouting and rapid fire—not in their direction—and the boom as a fire canon went off. The dragon swerved, roaring in what sounded suspiciously like laughter.
Kailigh stared, then burst into action as the iridescent black dragon crashed to the ground, dirt spraying as he deliberately tore claws into the earth, flinging boulder sized clumps of earth at his targets. His barbed tail cut through the air with a high-pitched whine, his maw bloody, fangs bared. He reared back, chest expanding.
“No FIRE!” Kailigh screamed at Maddugh—who else would it be? And what thehellwas he thinking?
The dragon glanced at her then released his breath in a cloud of brimstone air. The traffickers yelled at each other, momentarily discombobulated. Maddugh dropped onto his fours and charged, a tank the size of her small cottage, wings flaring to block out the sun. He fought with tail and claws, long neck swiping to snatch at foes with the length of her arm. Her daughters scrambled out of the way, retreating to her position, flintlock at the ready.
“Stay here to guard the door, I’ll cover him,” she said, and ran through the gate, took a knee, and protected his flanks. Maddugh made short work of the men who hadn’t managed to flee. Kailigh winced, hoping he’d send people to help clean up the mess, but then realizing with resigned fairness that it was her problem, so she would clean it up.
When the fight was over, the dragon stood on its hind legs again. The air around him shimmered, morphing into the Dwyrkin Lord.
Kailigh stared.
“Nice trick,” Serephone said, then, unexpectedly, tilted her head to eye the man up and down. Kai really couldn’t blame her.
“Where are his clothes?” Persia wondered.
He was a magnificent specimen, golden brown skin unblemished, the perfect proportion of lean toned muscle without looking over bulged or unfit. And evidently, he had no concern over his nudity because he strode forward, ignoring Serephone’s fixed stare and Persia’s slow, appreciative grin.
Maddugh’s amber eyes slashed into Kailigh. “No fire?” He snorted. “You’re coming with me. Now.”
Kailigh stood, locking her knees. “I don’t appreciate your tone of voice.”
“No?” He strolled closer, stepping close enough she wanted to reach for her knife, and stuck his face in hers. “I don’t care if you care for my tone of voice or not. We have a bargain, and you can’t fulfill it if you are dead, mistress.” He lifted a finger, touched her cheek. “Careful, Kailigh. If you renege on a bargain with a dragon—you become part of his hoarde.”
The low, nearly intimate tone told Kai one thing—he wanted her to become part of his hoarde. If she reneged on the bargain, it would be the pretext he needed to get what he wanted. Kailigh understood what he wanted on the surface—but she didn’t understand why he looked at her as if what he wanted, and she herself, were intertwined.
She tried to take a step back and her body betrayed her, adrenaline dropping to allow the effect of the poison to make itself known. He caught her as her knees crumpled, swinging her up into his arms.
“Are you injured?” he asked, voice sharp, then knelt, laying her on the earth to run hands over her body.
She tried not to think that a handsome, naked male was leaning over her, his hands all over her. “Tranquilizer,” she said, words slightly mushy. “It’ll burn off in an hour.”
His expression darkened and he lifted his wrist to his mouth. Fangs flashed, tearing into his skin and he pressed his bleeding wrist to her lips.
“A few mouthfuls,” he said when she gagged and tried to turn her head. His free hand gripped her jaw. “Either you take my blood, or I’ll carry you back to my home and tie you to my bed until you’re well.”
He could. She was no match for a dragon. Her eyes narrowed but she opened her mouth, lapping at the salty sweet liquid with a surprising lack of recoil, unable to look away from his eyes. It trickled through her, better than the finest wines or purest blends of coffee, banishing fatigue and numbness—and awakening a feeling in her body long buried.
His nostrils flared. “That’s enough. Greedy woman.” Maddugh rose, drawing her to her feet with him and for a moment his hands wrapped around her waist. He stared at her. “Dangerous woman.”
“More dangerous than a dragon?” She took a step back. “I don’t think so.”
He grabbed her hands, halting her. “A beautiful woman isalwaysmore dangerous. You interest me. That would be enough for me to stake a claim even if your… unique characteristics didn’t already sway me.”
“Are we really discussing this now, Maddugh? It doesn’t seem like the best time.”
“No? Then when?”
How about never. He made her uneasy, the focused way he stared at her, seemingly oblivious to everything else. The focus of a hunter.
“I-“ she stopped, gathering her dignity. Tugged at her hands, which he refused to relinquish. “I’m too old for flirting.”
He laughed at her. “My youngest son is older than you. You’re shy. Very well—now really isn’t the time. But there will be a time, mistress.”
