Chapter Three: Dara

Dara couldn’t believe what was happening. It had been two years since she’d last had sex—and even then it had been disappointing.

Her date had been half drunk and had finished in minutes, and then he’d rolled over and fallen asleep. In the morning, he’d given her a surprised look, as though he couldn’t believe that she hadn’t left already.

Now, she found herself reclining on a giant, luxurious bed. Drapes made of what looked like velvet surrounded them. There was a fireplace, with a real fire flickering in it. A crystal chandelier filled the room with gentle light, while outside, the sinking sun painted the sky in stunning shades of orange and pink.

Of course, the most stunning sight was Henrik. Her dragon prince.

She didn’t even know if he was really a prince—but anyone who owned a castle like this had to be a prince. Any movie would cast him as a prince, too: he had broad shoulders and incredible pecs and abs, a square jaw and just a hint of stubble, blond hair just long enough that she could bury her hands in it and tousle it a little, and a generous mouth that knew how to make her sigh with a kiss alone.

After that last, disastrous dating experience, she’d told herself that she’d given up on strangers. She’d never been one for one-night stands anyway.

But with Henrik, everything was different. He made her want to throw caution to the wind. All of her life, she’d been so careful. She had her boring nine to five job, never took any risks, and always knew exactly where she’d be in one year’s time.

No more of that. She wanted to be selfish now. She wanted happiness for herself, the kind of companionship and loving family she’d dreamed of as a child.

And she wanted Henrik. More than anything else in the world, she wanted Henrik, against her, inside her—just hers, and hers alone.

She was already naked. He’d pulled off her clothes with hands that were gentle and patient, although she could feel the strength in them and see the desire in his eyes. Then he’d undressed as well, and there she could see the proof of his need for her.

He was hard, beautifully so. Naked, he was even more impressive—completely at ease in his skin and moving with such confidence that she felt her body grow weak at the display of overpowering masculinity.

Henrik was all hard, flexing muscles. His skin shone in the flickering light of the fire, and when he joined her on the bed at last, she sighed at how right it felt to have his hot skin pressed against her. She could barely keep her hands off him. She wanted to explore his powerful body, feel those hard muscles shift beneath her fingertips.

And it seemed that Henrik wanted the same; that the same urgency had taken hold of him as well.

Earlier, when he was carrying her back to his room, she’d told him she was on birth control, barely able to wait until they made it to a bed. Now, she moaned breathlessly as he slid against her.

One of his large hands curved around her breast. When he leaned down to kiss her skin, she gasped, tightening her fingers in his hair as his tongue licked a hot trail across her nipple.

A soft whimper escaped her as she arched against him, and he used that opportunity to suck her nipple into his mouth. She moaned, her hands trailing down his back, trembling at the tender rasp of his tongue.

Her need for him was overwhelming now. Even as she arched, she could feel another trickle of wetness escape her folds. Her body was throbbing with how much she wanted him. It was like a fever had come over her—but all she wanted was more of the heat every touch of his fingers kindled inside her.

When he looked up at last, he was breathless too. There was an answering heat in his eyes, and when he shifted, she could feel him against her thigh, hard as a rock.

Then he moved forward, and she could barely bite back a sound of need as she felt his large shaft parting her folds. The touch alone was enough to make desire surge through her. It burned hot enough that for a moment, she couldn’t breathe as she waited, trembling as her entire body ached for him.

And then he pushed inside her at last. She drew her hands down his back, gripping hard muscle. A soft moan escaped her, her eyes closing in bliss.

It felt incredible. He was larger than anyone she’d ever been with, but she was so wet for him that he slid inside easily, filling her completely. The sensation was overwhelming. His touch made her shiver, her body tightening around him while heat rushed through her. Every thrust he made stoked that fire further until she felt like she was burning up.

No one had ever made her feel like this. Before, it had felt like a dream—the storm, the castle, the dragon. She knew these things didn’t happen to people like her: ordinary, sensible people with ordinary, sensible lives.

But now all of that melted away. She was no longer intimidated by the chandeliers, the velvet, the fireplace.

There was only Henrik. Their bodies were moving together as if they were meant to be, and she allowed his powerful thrusts to carry her away. She was flying, higher and higher, her body straining against his. Her back arched in ecstasy as she muffled her moans against his shoulder—and then she felt his climax move through him.

His powerful body shuddered and he groaned her name. Deep inside her, she felt an answering heat ripple through her. Together with his release, her climax overcame her. It felt like flames licking at her skin as her entire body throbbed, her inner walls tightening around him. For one long, incredible moment, they were truly one, clutching at each other as ecstasy swept them away.

A while later, they were resting curled against each other, enjoying the afterglow. Henrik’s arm was wrapped protectively around her, and she could feel the steady beating of his heart against her chest.

“Wow,” she sighed finally. “I still feel like this is all just a dream.”

“That was better than any dream I’ve ever had,” he murmured into her hair. “You’re incredible. And gorgeous.”

“This has never happened to me before.” Dara laughed, filled with pure happiness. Even if this wouldn’t last, wasn’t this what she had wanted when she decided to break out of her boring routine?

This had been anything but boring. The real trouble was that she could grow used to this far too easily…

“You’re not leaving anything behind, you said?” he asked quietly. “Your family and friends all moved away?”

Dara nodded, feeling his lips brush her temple. “What I have… you’d probably think of it as a very boring life. I do bookkeeping: nine to five, sitting in the same office every day, staring at the same numbers. But… I always liked that, you know? It’s a small company, and while I don’t get to make the decisions, I made sure that everything worked. The boss always told me that I was magic—turning his chaos to order within hours every day. And I liked that. Everything had its place, and I made everything run smoothly. But when everyone I loved moved it away, it felt… empty. Somehow it lost its meaning, you know? I don’t feel that old satisfaction anymore at making things work, because—what for? There’s nothing to look forward to when I come home.”

Henrik was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, Dara could hear the pain in his voice.

“I know that feeling,” he whispered. “Believe me. I know it so well.”

Gently, she ran her hand up his bare arm. Beneath her fingers, she could feel the hardness of his muscles and the light scattering of his chest hair.

Henrik took a deep breath. “Dara, you told me your friend married a shifter. Do you know… about mates?”

Dara nodded, feeling her heart start to race. Would he tell her now, gently but firmly, that she was a lovely woman but that one day soon he’d find his true soulmate?

“Gus told Miranda that she’s his mate—and I could see it too,” she said slowly. “They’re so right for each other. And he’d do everything for her. He seems so goofy when he’s running around as a dog, playing with the children or drooling on a pillow—but the moment something threatens Miranda, you see that he’d give his life for her.”

Slowly, Henrik brushed back a strand of her hair. “That’s true. Finding your mate is… it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

Dara froze in his arms, staring at him with bated breath. Did he mean…?

“Dara, you’re my mate.” There was a hopeful light in Henrik’s eyes as he watched her. “I felt it—even before I saw you. That was why I could feel your distress out there in the storm. And that’s probably also why you could make your way past the gate. Somehow, the land knew that you belonged here with me. And when I saw you… for twenty years I’ve locked myself away in here, but when I saw you, suddenly I wanted to experience life again. I want to see you smile. I want to see you dance in the snow. I want you to be my mate, Dara, and I want to make you happy.”

Dara found she couldn’t breathe. Something in her chest had expanded, filling her with warmth—as though her heart was suddenly too large, filled to the brim with feelings she’d feared she’d never experience.

“I felt it too,” she whispered back, allowing her fingers to travel up his strong arms. “I’ve never met a stranger and immediately felt so safe and at home. It’s just like Miranda explained it to me. It was hard to believe her—but I feel like I know you.” She allowed her smile to widen as she trailed a finger back down his chest. “Of course, it also helps that you’re incredibly good at this…”

“Ooh,” Henrik growled playfully, rolling them over so that he was on top of her once more. “Do I hear an invitation for another round?”

Dara giggled breathlessly, and then they had to postpone their conversation for a while as other needs took over, the fire flickering merrily, while outside, the first stars winked into existence.

 

***

An hour later, they were sitting in the large downstairs kitchen, freshly showered and wrapped in fluffy bathrobes with plates of mac and cheese in front of them.

“This is still all the family part of the castle,” Henrik was explaining as he gestured at this room and the large, adjoining dining room. “There are guest rooms here on the first floor as well—family guests, no tourists. On the second floor are the children’s rooms, and the third floor, as you’ve seen, holds suites for the adults. My dad put a lot of thought into the redesign. He wanted it to be perfect—designed both for the guests who came for a day of fun at the snow castle, while at the same time keeping our privacy. And it worked well: those two large wings you’ve seen aren’t connected to the family part of the castle. Even on the days when groups of children were running around outside, having snowball fights while the adults were sipping their eggnog, in here you had as much privacy as you wanted.”

He gave Dara a mischievous grin. “Of course, as a child I mainly wanted to run outside and join in. Winter was always my favorite part of the year.”

“Mine too,” Dara sighed. “But in the city it just turns to gray slush. When I was young, I promised myself that I’d move somewhere where you could build snowmen in your garden. Of course, it never worked out…”

“You can build a lot of snowmen here,” Henrik murmured and reached out to take her hand. “There’s enough space for an entire army of them to fight off spring.”

Together, they put their plates into the dishwasher, and then set out exploring once more. Henrik was eager to show off his home, and Dara loved watching him point out attractions and explain all the history and thoughts behind what she saw. And there was so much to see! It was overwhelming, like a fairy tale come to life.

Despite her first impression, this was nothing like a theme park. Everything about Henrik’s home was real. The wall and the two towers were built from real stone. There was a steep staircase that led upwards from the third floor, and you could climb all the way up to the top of the towers and look out from the parapets.

“For dragons, of course, it’s more than just a beautiful view,” Henrik explained. “We can land or take off from here. And do you see that lake over there?”

Dara nodded as she followed Henrik’s pointing finger. Not too far from the snow castle, a lake of ice was glistening in the pale light of the moon.

“Now imagine children and their parents skating on that. There were stands selling popcorn and ice cream and candy apples, and of course we had a stand renting skates. And a farmer from the village in the valley organized sleigh rides. He’d take them around the entire castle and back.”

Dara leaned her head against Henrik’s shoulder. In the moonlight, everything that spread out below them seemed frozen in time, coldly beautiful and untouched by the years that had passed. Still, the part of her that had always found such satisfaction in smoothly running office work was already running mental calculations, trying to work out how best to organize a place like Henrik’s snow castle.

Next, Henrik took her back downstairs. The ground level held the guest rooms Henrik had mentioned, and the kitchen she had already explored. Past the dining room, which was large enough for a big family and their guests, they came into the living room.

Dara released a breath of relief. She’d half feared that every place in this castle would be as overwhelming as the ballroom they’d seen earlier—but the living room was cozy. Like the kitchen and the dining area, it was much larger than what she was used to, but it was clearly the home of a family, and not a stuffy museum room meant to show off the owner’s wealth.

There were couches and recliners and even a large TV. Most importantly, there were what looked like family portraits on the wall—and drawings clearly done by a child.

Dara giggled softly as she wandered over to inspect them.

“Did you draw these?” She nodded at a crayon drawing of the castle. There was a smiling sun in the corner of the sky, what had to be either a dragon or a flying horse above the castle, and little stick figures throwing snowballs at each other.

Henrik coughed softly. “I’m still not much of an artist,” he admitted. “But yes. I must have been four or five. It was a constant source of embarrassment to me that my mother kept these on the walls.”

“I think it’s adorable,” Dara said softly and leaned against him. “My mom did the same. She was always working so hard, and there was never really much time—but she kept all my drawings pinned to the fridge.”

“I bet you were a better artist than me,” Henrik said teasingly. He nodded at the next picture. This one showed a group of dragons. “Here. I’m the small one.”

“The ice dragon,” Dara whispered and smiled. The drawing wasn’t very skillful, but for all that Henrik claimed that he wasn’t much of an artist, she’d recognized him immediately.

“My mom helped me glue glitter to it. To make them look real.” Henrik laughed. “I think my hands and face and this entire room glittered for a week after that. But it came out well. I’m the silver glitter. My dad’s the light blue and my mom’s the violet. When they went flying together, it looked a bit like sunset racing across the sky.”

“And the black dragon?”

“That’s my uncle, Alistair. He doesn’t live here—too depressing” Henrik sighed. “And he was never much of a countryside sort of person anyway. He loves big cities. You know what they say about dragons and their hoard? We obsess a lot about our jewels, but he prefers the jewels of the modern age. He can talk your ear off about taxes and hostile takeovers and the Dow Jones and whatnot. To tell the truth, it bores me to tears.”

Dara laughed softly and nudged his shoulder. “Everyone should care about taxes, even a dragon,” she said and grinned at him. “I’m starting to believe that the gate let me in because the castle was in desperate need of a bookkeeper…”

Henrik gave her a sudden, surprised laugh. “In that case, the castle has impeccable taste when it comes to bookkeepers!”

“We have sharp eyes. You can’t slip anything past us,” Dara declared, poking his chest teasingly with her finger. “And I’m curious. Your castle looks like it came straight out of a fairy tale! I’m very impressed. But… something is missing. Something very, very important!”

Henrik frowned. “Actually, for the first time in twenty years, I feel like nothing is missing…”

“Very flattering,” Dara acceded with a nod, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “But this is really a very grave oversight. I might have to inform the authorities. How can this be the snow castle of Christmas Valley—and yet you don’t even have your Christmas decorations up?”

Henrik stared at her for a moment, speechless, then snorted with helpless laughter. “You scared me! For a second I really thought you were threatening to set the IRS on me!”

Now Dara was giggling too. “No, I mean it,” she said, lightly boxing his arm. “Come on, what gives? If you dragons like sparkly things, where’s your Christmas tree?”

Henrik straightened slowly. “Still out in the hallway. I was going to put it up in here and decorate, but… why bother? If it was just me, all alone in here, why even pretend that…”

“But what if it’s not just you?” Dara asked, giving him a loving look. How strange to imagine that all these years, Henrik had lived in this incredible place—but in the end, he’d been just as lonely as she had been. “Come on. I’ll help you put it up. It’ll be fun!”

And it was fun. In fact, it was more fun than Dara’d had in a very long time.

Henrik had put on some Christmas carols and dragged huge boxes of Christmas decorations from the attic. Dara had clapped her hands in glee the first time she opened a box. She felt like a little child on Christmas morning all over again. Henrik’s family owned enough Christmas ornaments to decorate ten trees—or an entire castle.

And the ornaments were like nothing she’d ever seen before. The baubles sparkled and shone in the light. There were red balls and blue balls, bells in silver and gold, tiny figurines of spun glass, and wooden figures that looked hand-carved and painted. There was angel hair in all the colors of the rainbow, and enough lights to illuminate an entire forest.

“How about you choose a color scheme for this year, and I go and deal with… this?” Henrik gave her a rueful look from the tangle of cables that surrounded him. “Every time I tell myself I’ll be more careful when putting the lights away, and yet when winter arrives and I open the boxes, it’s turned into… this.”

Dara could barely hold back her laughter when she saw him wrangle a giant knot, loops of cables already encircling his body. “Careful, or we might just end up having to decorate you as our tree instead!”

Leaving Henrik to his task, she lifted another ornament from a box. This one was glass as well, carefully spun into the form of a small bird. Its translucent wings sparkled in the light. When she held it up, the pale colors of the glass intensified, its breast gleaming red, its feathers changing between blue and green and yellow.

“These are beautiful,” she said with admiration, and then carefully slipped the small loop of string over a branch of the tree.

The box held six birds, each as beautiful as the first, and all in slightly different colors. She put them all onto the tree while Henrik was still struggling with his tangled lights. Pleased, she watched the little birds sparkle.

“I know!” she then declared as she suddenly had a vision of the finished tree. “Where did you put the silver baubles?”

“Over there,” Henrik said, pointing to a box with hands illuminated by the gleaming fairy lights.

With new energy, Dara set to work.

“I came up with a perfect color scheme,” she declared, biting back a small smile as she sneaked glances at Henrik and his struggle. “Let’s see if you can guess the source of my inspiration when I’m done!”

“Knock yourself out,” Henrik called back, grimacing when he pulled on the lights and a new tangle formed immediately. “It hasn’t seen much use in years—and this is what it was meant for. It’ll be good to see it all out around the house again!”

Happily, Dara hummed along to the carols as she went through box after box, setting several of them aside. Silver baubles, gold baubles, gleaming crystal and translucent blues—soon she’d amassed an entire pile of boxes, and then she truly set to work.

Henrik had meanwhile untangled enough of the lights to decorate the tree with them. It was a large tree; Henrik had been forced to bring in a ladder so that they could decorate the highest branches as well. It filled the room with the comforting scent of fir needles while the fire crackled in the fireplace.

Dara breathed in deeply. They’d never had a real tree at home; it was too much work and too expensive, and there hadn’t been any space anyway. But now as she worked side by side with Henrik, the room filled by the scent of the forest and the warmth of the fire, she felt perfectly content. More than that: she felt at home.

She’d always dreamed of the perfect Christmas. And by all accounts, this was perfect: the cozy room, the giant tree, the hundreds of boxes of decorations at her disposal.

But that wasn’t actually what filled her with such quiet happiness.

She turned her head to watch Henrik begin to put up a string of lights by the fireplace. He wasn’t even looking at her—he was completely focused on his work. There was a small smile on his face, and he was softly humming along to the carols as well, his voice comforting and deep.

This was what made it all feel right. She didn’t feel like an outsider in a stranger’s place. They were working together, side by side, and it was as if with every move she made, every bauble she hung from the tree, the connection between them deepened.

And it wasn’t just the irresistible attraction she’d felt since she’d first seen Henrik. This went much deeper than the sex—even though that had been great.

When was the last time she’d felt such an instant understanding with someone?

“Do you need help with the sapphire ones?” Henrik asked from the fireplace.

Dara instinctively shook her head, then froze as his words registered. Doubtfully, she looked at the bauble in her hand. It was blue, studded with little bits of colored glass that broke the light, gleaming and sparkling whenever she turned it.

“What did you call these?” she asked, frowning a little as she ran the pad of her thumb along the sparkly glass.

“Those are sapphire—my grandmother’s favorites,” Henrik said, coming up to stand behind her. “I think they came from the hoard of a suitor of hers, a French duke. She rejected him in the end, but he had remarkably good taste.”

Dara made a non-committal sound, her knees suddenly weak. “You mean sapphire as in—the blue gems?”

Henrik nodded and took the bauble from her, holding it up to turn it critically, as though he was looking for flaws. “Nineteenth century. Really very beautiful. My grandmother would have been so pleased to see you choose these.”

“Oh,” Dara breathed, her eyes going to the large stash of boxes at her feet. With trembling hands, she picked up one of the gold baubles.

They’d felt strangely heavy when she hung them, but she’d thought the reason was that these were old—probably made from glass instead of plastic.

But she hadn’t thought—

“Now these are firmly twentieth century,” Henrik said promptly. “My dad’s favorite. He was quite old-fashioned in his ways—at least for a dragon. These are twenty-two karat gold. He always used to say that’s all a dragon needs to be happy.”

“Oh,” Dara said tonelessly, her eyes wide as she stared at the gleaming bauble in her hand.

If this was real gold, and the other baubles she’d hung were real, actual sapphires—then these were probably worth more than she’d earned in her life.

And if she’d dropped one of them…

“Are you sure we should use these?” she asked, willing her hand not to tremble as she held the fragile decoration. “If we drop any of them…”

“Hey, don’t worry.” Henrik’s arms came around her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “These are meant to go on a tree. What’s the use of hiding them away in boxes for centuries? They’re part of my hoard, and we dragons can get very smug about our treasures. We want to look at our hoard and admire it.”

“So you’re having a dragon’s Christmas tree, decorated with real jewels,” Dara said, still feeling weak as she looked at all the decorations she’d already hung up.

“Mmm.” Henrik nuzzled gently at her neck. “This is what my hoard is meant for. Please, go on. I love watching you decorate.”

“But if you’re so possessive of your jewels,” Dara said slowly, “doesn’t it bother you to see me touch them?”

“On the contrary.” Henrik’s voice hoarse, his breath hot against her skin. “I want to see you decorated with my treasure. My gold on your skin. And my ruby reindeer put on our tree by your hands.”

“Oh,” Dara breathed again, but this time, it wasn’t a sound of shock. Dara was beginning to understand.

She didn’t know much about dragons… but she knew what that breathlessness in his voice meant; that delicious, low rumble when he spoke.

With slow, deliberate movements, she reached out for one of the small reindeer. Rubies, Henrik had said—and Dara no longer doubted it. They flashed and glittered in the light of the fire as though the stones were alive. No, this wasn’t colored glass—even Dara could see that.

She hung the reindeer from a branch, close to one of the fairy lights that made it shimmer and shine.

“It’s beautiful,” Dara murmured, leaning back contentedly when Henrik’s arms came around her once more.

“It’s the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen.” Henrik pressed a kiss to the tip of her ear. “This is the first time in twenty years I’m excited for Christmas.”

With a pleased smile, Dara watched the tree sparkle. With the illumination of the small lights Henrik had wound around the tree, it had truly come to life. The baubles she had picked and hung from its branches gleamed in hues of silver, gold, crystal and blue: the colors of the magnificent ice dragon that had come to save her from the storm. It was beautiful—just as beautiful as the sight of the powerful dragon had been, its wings spanning the sky, mastering even the fierce storm that would have killed her.

Dara smiled to herself as she felt Henrik’s arms tighten around her. It really was the most beautiful tree she’d ever seen. But not because a dragon’s hoard worth millions of dollars was hanging from its branches.

With a sigh, she turned in Henrik’s embrace and allowed herself to be kissed.

They could have hung paper ornaments from the tree, and it would have been just as beautiful. This tree was theirs, and that was really the only thing that mattered.