Page 15 of Bride of the Black Dragon
“Tell me!” he snarls, glaring down at me. “Tell me you want me to take you now—tell me you want me to fuck you—to breed you. Tell me you want me to fill your pussy with my cock and your belly with my baby! Say it—say it if you really mean it!”
His wild, crude words make me even more afraid. I shake my head, shrinking back from him. He’s huge—he could kill me with a single blow. And he’s in a rage like nothing I’ve ever seen before! The Drake’s eye blazes at me menacingly.
Don’t lie, it seems to say. Don’t you dare lie to me again!
“Please…” I put up a hand to ward him off. “I don’t…I can’t… I’m sorry!”
“I thought not.” He lets the hair fall back into place, hiding the scar once more. All the anger seems to leak out of him at once. “Go now, little dove. I want none of you—no more than you want me,” he says and his voice is low and dull.
His mood swings are making me dizzy. I don’t know what to say.
“But…” I clasp my hands together at my chest. “But I can’t just leave.”
“You can and you will,” he says firmly. He cups my cheek in one big hand and I notice how warm his skin is before I flinch instinctively away.
An expression of self-loathing twists the side of his face that I can see and he withdraws his hand. But instead of getting angry again, his voice is gentle.
“I won’t rape you, little dove. I don’t care what my Mother says. I won’t take a woman who’s unwilling. Now, go.”
“I can’t.” I’m starting to cry a little now, my eyes burning and my chest tight with emotion—with fear and frustration. “Your mother sent a servant to come and watch and be sure I stayed here all night with you. If you throw me out, I’ll get into trouble!”
He sighs harshly and shakes his head.
“She always was an overbearing bitch. Very well—you can stay here. That’s your side of the bed…” He points to the left side. “And this is my side.” He points to the right. “You stay on your half and I’ll stay on mine. All right?”
I want to protest again that he has to take me…that he must get me pregnant. Because what will I do if he doesn’t? Eventually, the Queen will find out!
But I don’t have it in me to offer myself again. Having him looming over me, growling, and showing me his scar is too much. Yes, it’s ugly, but that I could deal with. It’s the sight of his Drake coming out—coming through—that truly frightens me. I saw no pity in that golden, flaming eye. Only an animal hunger that scared me near to death.
“All right,” I agree at last.
“Good. And you can go back to your rooms in the morning and if my mother’s servant asks, you can truthfully tell him you spent the night in my bed.” He shakes his head. “That’s all I can do for you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, though I don’t know what I’m thanking him for. Am I saying thank you for sparing me? For not taking me? That’s what it feels like, but I know this is only a temporary reprieve. Eventually I must get pregnant.
I just don’t have any idea how that is to be achieved since neither one of the men I’m apparently married to wants me.
I settled down on my side of the bed, shivering. It’s cold down here in the dungeon lair of the Dark Prince. And though he’s letting me share his bed, I doubt he’d let me share his warmth. Not that I would dare to cuddle up to him now. He was so angry with me for lying and saying I wanted him. But what else could I do? It’s my first time. I know it’s going to hurt and he’s so big. What woman wants that? It’s frightening. But you can’t say any of that, of course—you must pretend you want whatever your husband dishes out. That’s how I was raised and trained, anyway.
I don’t know what I’m going to do…I just don’t know. I curl myself into a ball and try not to think about the future. At last, I drift off into a thin, troubled sleep.
I dream of dragons.
10
ELAINA
Xaren is already gone in the morning when I wake. There’s no note—just the covers thrown back on his side of the bed and a pillow that still smells like him. I know because I lean over and press my face to it. I don’t know why I do that—I just like the way he smells. His dark spice makes me tingle for some reason—in a good way.
I pull my robe back on and slip my feet into my slippers. I notice that the sheets we slept on are black—good. At least the maids won’t be able to tell that my virgin blood wasn’t spilled last night. Although eventually, it must be.
I make my way back up the stairs. The servant is there, waiting. He nods when he sees me, then glides silently away—no doubt to report success to the Queen. I hope that she won’t call me and interrogate me because then I’d have to lie and say the Dark Prince had me last night when he didn’t. And I’m not a very good liar, as I demonstrated the night before.
I go back to my rooms and Tanzy gets me dressed for the day. Breakfast first, then riding. It’s become my habit to go out every day at the same time. I find spending time on Maribelle’s broad back while she meanders through the meadows around the Citadel is immensely relaxing. And after the tension of last night, I could certainly use some relaxation.
As I leave my rooms, dressed in my riding habit, I happen to see Prince Dorian and Henri coming down the hall. Quickly, before they can see me, I duck into a little alcove that holds a miniature statue of a dragon. The dragon has its head bowed and its stone spines dig into my back as I press myself back against it, not wanting to be seen by the man who rejected me.
He might not see me, but I can see him and his “best friend.” The two of them are walking close and talking in low voices. Still, I can hear them, thanks to the stone throat of the hallway.
