Chapter 6

When I opened my eyes, the room was cool and dark, making me think it must be the middle of the night. Yet I couldn’t hear Renata breathing in her bed next to mine, and the scents were wrong. Instead of lavender and patchouli, I smelled hot cinnamon and stone.

Stone. I sat straight up, the covers pooling around my waist. This wasn’t my bed or my room, and I was unaccountably sore between my legs. Memories stole back. Maybe not so unaccountably. I was married!

My husband was not with me, and I had only the haziest remembrance of getting into the bed at all. It might have been the third—no, fourth time we’d made love. The first three encounters had taken place on the hearth rug.

Dragons had stamina. Four times in one night! The little witch had kept up her end, too. I smiled to think of Donovan calling me that. As pet names went, I loved it.

“Donovan?” Still shy to use his name, I didn’t call loudly. I listened intently, but heard nothing. I had no idea what time it was. It felt like morning; at least my body was telling me that, only nothing but darkness surrounded me. My new home had no windows.

I fumbled around on the nightstand and discovered a candle. When I struck the match, the coating on the stone walls illuminated, and I could see clearly. Across from the bed stood two dressers. I chose the smaller and pulled out the top drawer. My underthings. I blushed to think of Donovan unpacking these intimate little garments for me, but considering his mouth and hands had explored every inch of my body, a few panties and corsets meant nothing.

I found my robe on a hook on the back of the door, and shrugged it on. Somewhere there had to be a bathroom.

Carrying the candle, I ventured into the hallway. Sconces hung on the wall, and I lit them. The hall sprang into lightness. The first door I tried was locked. Frowning, I rattled the knob. If Donovan was in that room, he held his tongue.

The next door was a guest bedroom, the one opposite it some sort of study. The door at the end of the hall opened into a small bathroom with another door directly opposite.

I opened that one and gasped. A shallow pool with moving water greeted me. The pool emptied into a small channel on both sides that flowed away into a series of pools—some bigger, some smaller than the one outside Donovan’s chamber. An underground hot spring I decided after dipping a bare toe into the blissfully warm water.

Three pools down a toddler splashed his mother. Far enough away I had to squint to make them out. Wooden half walls had been erected on either side of the channel, giving semi-privacy. I discarded my robe and stepped into the pool. When I was shoulder-deep, I could no longer see the mother and her child, although I could hear his excited squeals.

Baskets full of soap and shampoo rested on the side of the pool. I availed myself of both, taking my time because I had never experienced a hot spring before. I wanted to prolong the experience.

The sudsy water flowed away, keeping the pool clear and fresh. I sank beneath the surface, combing my fingers through my long hair to make sure all the shampoo was gone. When I surfaced, I gasped. Val, her daughter, and another woman I didn’t know stared at me from the edge of the pool.

“Come, let’s go one pool up,” Val suggested, completely ignoring me after giving me a disgusted eye roll. “The witch has polluted this pool. We’ll make sure we never use this one again if she’s going to ruin it with her putrid filth.”

The strange woman threw back her head and burst into hard, cruel laughter. I’d never felt so small in my entire life.

“Big tits,” the woman remarked, starting down at me “Even bigger ass. Poor Donovan. I’m sure it won’t be long before he comes knocking at my door again.”

Tall and willowy, she possessed what I considered a perfect figure. And she’d slept with Donovan. How could he prefer me to her? She had blonde hair that cascaded down to the small of her back, and silvery eyes that shone like moonlight.

Val’s daughter cast me an anguished look. “I think Donovan’s wife is beautiful.”

“You’re thirteen years old. You have no idea of feminine beauty,” Val told her. “And the next time you say something ridiculous about that witch like you just have, I’ll tell your father. As you can imagine, he won’t be pleased.” She took hold of one of her daughter’s braids and gave it a yank. “Witches are foul, loathsome liars and thieves. The sooner you get that through your head, the better off you’ll be.”

“The king said the feud must end. He made Donovan marry her. Aren’t we supposed to try to get along now?”

I could have kissed that girl, but I remained still in the pool, wishing my robe was closer, and I had the guts to go get it, regardless.

“Shut up and start walking.” Val gave her daughter’s hair another good pull, making her wince in pain.

The woman who’d slept with Donovan smirked at me before spitting into the pool and sauntering away.

I waited until I could barely hear their mocking laughter and trash talk about witches anymore. Then I launched myself out of the pool, snatched my robe and fled back into Donovan’s chambers.

My wet feet skidded on the slick stone and I would have fallen if Donovan, who was in bathroom, hadn’t grabbed me.

“Whoa, little witch! What’s the big rush?” His smile faded when he saw my expression. His eyes darkened.

“What’s the matter?” He made his voice soft and gentle. “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, not trusting my voice. I wasn’t going to cry in front of him, nor was I going to tell him about Val and the other woman’s bullying. I’d known from the start it would be rough here at first. Nothing unexpected had happened, and I needed to develop a thicker skin so the insults that were surely headed my way would slide right off.

“I need to dry off and get dressed,” I said when I had control of my emotions.

“Breakfast’s on the table. In all my rush to get you unpacked and prepare for your coming, would you believe I forgot to stock up on food? Sorry I wasn’t there when you woke; I had to go find some.” Donovan followed me to the bedroom and watched me with a worried frown as I toweled dry and dressed.

I wasn’t hungry, but when I saw the eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, and toast spread across the table, I forced myself to sit. He’d gone to a lot of trouble, so the least I could do was try to eat.

A pot of coffee bubbled over the hearth flames. Donovan grabbed a towel before taking the pot off the hook and filling two mugs.

He’d fried the eggs over easy, just the way I liked them. Still, I had to choke down the first few bites because of the tears clogging my throat.

“Tell me.” He took a seat opposite me and crossed his arms on the table so he could rest his chin on his wrists and stare at me.

“It’s delicious,” I said, dabbing a piece of toast into the egg yolk.

“Not that. Tell me what happened in the bathing pool. You ran inside like you’d seen a ghost.” His mouth tightened. “Or like someone had hurt you. Who was out there with you?”

I clenched my teeth to keep silent. This was my battle to fight, not his.

“Marley.”

“I guess the king didn’t care that you already had a girlfriend when he forced you to marry me.” I heard myself speaking as if I were standing apart from myself. “I know I’m not much to look at compared to dragon women, so I’ll understand if you don’t want to sleep with me after a while.”

He buried his face in his hands, rubbing at his temples as if to massage my words away. What if he’d really loved that blonde woman? And I was simply a new plaything that he had to make do with? I’d had the best sex of my life last night, but what if he hadn’t? What if he’d hated every minute of it, and everything he’d said was simply pretty lies spoken in the heat of the moment?

Ultimately, what did it even matter? It wasn’t as if I loved him, was it?

“No, but you could,” a small voice inside me whispered. “If you let yourself, you could fall hard for this man.”

He lowered his hands, his eyes full of compassion. I squeezed mine shut. Not that. Anything but pity.

“Did it ever occur to you that dragon women are jealous of you?” he asked.

A ragged laugh escaped me and I set down my toast. “Of me?”

He nodded, his gaze fixed to mine.

“I’m short. I’ve got brown hair. My eyes will never gleam like theirs, and maybe my tits are big, but so is my ass. They’re perfect. I haven’t seen an ugly dragon woman yet.”

“Oh, they’re ugly, some of them,” Donovan told me. “Ugly in the worst way possible.” He tapped his chest. “Inside.”

“I’m talking about the outside,” I said. “Who cares about the inside?”

“I do!” He took a deep breath. “Not that it matters, but in addition to possessing the most beautiful soul I have ever encountered, you’re also gorgeous. You know you are. You’ve never considered yourself ugly before today, have you?”

“No.” I shook my head. Generally, when I looked in the mirror, I liked what I saw. “I’ve always wished I had blonde hair and blue eyes, though.”

A grin twisted across Donovan’s lips. “And those blondes have always secretly wanted honey brown hair like yours, I’ll bet. Everyone envies what they haven’t got. Especially dragons. Remember that. We are possessive, covetous, jealous, awful creatures.”

“You’re not,” I said.

He ducked his head, still grinning. “Thank you. But I am. I go to great lengths to get what I want. When I see something I like, I take it. Most times without considering the consequences.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” he said. “That’s how I ended up sleeping with Gwenyth. I saw her. I wanted her. I took her. And then I found out what a royal asshole she is. The problem was she’s a dragon, too, and she also takes what she wants and doesn’t let go when she has it. You got me out of a bad predicament, Marley, and I thank you. Marriage to someone else was the only way to get rid of her.”

“You might want to run that one by her, because I don’t think she’s given up yet,” I said, slightly mollified by his words. However, a part of me wanted to tell him I resented being a convenient escape hatch. I wanted to be more than that.

His laugh sounded derisive. “The big tits, big ass line was hers, wasn’t it?”

A small giggle burst from me. I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Yeah. Except it was, ‘Big tits, even bigger ass.’”

Donovan shook his head. “Your ass is perfect, just like the rest of you.”

“Honestly,” I said with a sigh. “She’s beautiful. She is.”

“And so are you.” Donovan’s grin faded. “Please don’t make me say something to her. It’ll only prolong the agony, I swear.”

“You never heard a word of this!” I grabbed my fork and tapped his arm with it to get his full attention. “I’ve never cared what anybody thought of my looks before, and I’m not starting now. Mostly, I resent being called a thief and a liar. I’m neither of those things.”

“Technically, all Tauria witches are thieves,” Donovan said.

Weird how six little words could destroy the peace between us. I froze for a moment, trying to figure out a way not to let him know how devastating his words were.

“I was two years old when Eleanora found that buried chest. I had no part of the decision made to grow the tubers and eat them.” I gulped some coffee, wincing as it burned my tongue.

“Yet you eat them now.” Donovan spoke lightly, but a jagged edge of bitterness marred his tone. “You’re complicit, little witch. Admit it.”

All the air in the room evaporated, leaving me breathless as a fish flopping on a riverbank. From him, too? I guess he had no problem calling me beautiful and fucking me until I screamed his name, even though he believed I was as worthless as the rest of his clan did. The lust for sex conquered disgust, apparently.

“Why are you so nice to me if you think I’m a thief?” I set down the mug and leaned back in my chair so I could braid my wet hair and keep my fingers busy.

“Sometimes we tell ourselves lies to avoid admitting the hard truth,” he said. “You tell yourself you were two years old when your aunt found the tuber, and so eating one twenty years later isn’t stealing. Only, it is to a dragon.”

“There is no witch truth and dragon truth. There’s just truth,” I said, braiding as fast as I could to keep from screaming.

“I agree,” he said.

“Yet, you think I’m a thief and a liar.” My voice remained remarkably calm and steady compared to the inner turmoil I was experiencing. Once, when I was seven I was playing tag with the other children in my coven, and I’d run into a low-hanging tree branch when I’d chanced a look over my shoulder to see how far ahead I was. The breathless agony I’d experienced then was nothing compared to what I was suffering now. Papa was wrong. I couldn’t make this marriage work. Not if my husband didn’t believe in me. I opened my mouth to tell him that I’d never eaten any tubers, out of respect for the dragons’ wishes, but he spoke first.

“I forgive you,” he said.

Anger bloomed inside me, slow and wrathful. I would be eternally damned before I would tell him I’d never touched one of his precious tubers now.

“Magnanimous of you. Should I grovel at your feet?”

Confusion knit his brow. “I thought that was what this marriage was about. If I can forgive you, other dragons can forgive other witches. It has to start somewhere, right?”

“So that’s what last night was all about?” I resisted the urge to throw something at him. “Fucking equals forgiveness? Is that how it goes?”

He stared at me. “Crude. But something like that.”

I’d thought being sneered at by Val and Gwenyth would be the worst thing I’d have to endure today. Wrong.

Beneath the table, I dug my nails into my thigh until it hurt so bad I wanted to cry out.

“I suppose it’s never occurred to you that dragons have a lot to answer for, too? That vengeance isn’t a valid answer, and you and every other dragon who ever flamed a field might actually require forgiveness from us at some point? Witches forgiving dragons! How many fields have you arrogant bastards burned over the last twenty years? How much magic have we lost forever because you’ve callously destroyed generations of cultivated plants?” I gritted my teeth. “You have no idea how much destruction you’ve wreaked. The witches aren’t the only ones who need forgiveness, Donovan.” I all but spat his name. “You need it, too. And I’m damned if I’ll give it to you. How dare you treat me like your favorite charity?”

I pushed back my chair and leaped to my feet so I could shout, “I’m not your charity! I’m your wife! There’s a big difference!”

I spun around, searching for somewhere I could go, but all I saw was rock and darkness.

Whirling back to him, I screamed, “I hate it here! There’s no sunlight! No windows! Where am I supposed to go now? I don’t want to be here with you, and I have nowhere else to go!”

Shock spread across his face, freezing him in his seat.

“There’s the common area,” he said at last.

I curled my lip at him. “Even if I remembered how to get there, I’d still have to share that space with dragons.”

“This is Zodiac Mountain,” he said, a touch of impatience creeping into his tone. “Home of the dragons.”

I clenched my fists and pressed them hard to the sides of my thighs.

“I admit it. I’m a weak witch who’s used to working in the soil with the sun beaming down on my back. Where I can feel a breeze and smell the earth and the air and growing things. Nothing grows in rock. I’m out of my element. I suppose you’d say the king did this to me on purpose, because even he thinks the witches are the ones most in the wrong.

“So perhaps this is my punishment. Slowly suffocating to death beneath a million pounds of lifeless stone.” I hung my head, fighting tears.

“I could bring you somewhere. I wouldn’t stay. A field or a valley?” Donovan offered. “You’d have to endure my presence for a short while, but I’d be in dragon form, and you could pretend you didn’t even know me.”

I shook my head. “There’s the spare bedroom. Maybe I could go in there for a while. I don’t want the whole mountain seeing me like this. They gloat enough as it is.”

Donovan nodded. Head still down, I turned for the hallway.

“Marley,” he called. I stopped walking, but I didn’t turn around. “I meant to tell you earlier. That room is yours to do with as you like. I’ve got a private treasure room, so it’s only fair you have one, too. I’ll get you anything you want to go inside it.”

“Windows? Can you get me windows?” I asked bitterly.

“Not ones that would look outside.” He sounded as defeated as I felt.

“Then nothing, thank you. I’ll do it on my own.”

After carefully closing the door, I threw myself onto the guest bed and buried my face in the pillow. Sulking was never productive, but neither was fighting at the top of my lungs. Between the two choices, I’d take the former. At least I might stand a reasonable chance of calming down. I closed my eyes to erase Donovan’s expression of hurt, but it did no good. I also couldn’t stop hearing him admit he’d slept with me to try to forgive me—for something I didn’t even do. I hadn’t stolen the tuber, nor had I ever tasted one. My only crime was being a witch; that was no crime unless being a dragon was one, too.

I needed to talk this through with Donovan, but I couldn’t help being devastated by everything he’d said to me. I wasn’t a liar. I wasn’t a thief. And if I had known sleeping with me was his way of forgiving me, I would never have let him touch me. No matter how good his body felt against mine.