Chapter Four
In this moment, Bloodaxe wanted to tell Georgiana the truth. In this moment, he wanted her to know that he was once Arik Blakefield, the one meant to be Duke of Draloch and her betrothed. He glanced out the window at the two moons that always shone in the red sky. Bright by day and dim by night, but always there.
Always a reminder of the life he’d given up when following his little brother into the Underworld to rescue him. Saron.
He had succeeded in saving his brother, but had paid an enormous price for it. By rescuing Saron, he’d condemned himself to this brutal and soulless Underworld existence.
Even so, he would do it all over again without a moment’s hesitation. It mattered not that Saron hated him and had sworn to kill him on sight. That hatred sprang from Brihann’s evil doing, a monstrous act purposely designed to keep the Draloch brothers from ever uniting.
Two black dragons shall reign supreme.
Two black dragons shall unite the worlds of demon and man.
But which two?
He, Saron, and Brihann were the only black dragons. Three dragons. The words of the prophecy mentioned only two. Which two? He and Brihann who could unite both worlds by demonic conquest? Or was it possible that he and Saron would reconcile and unite both worlds by truce?
The Stone of Draloch could be interpreted in many ways.
What was Georgiana’s part in his destiny?
He fixed his gaze on the moons that sat well above the horizon and towered over the thin tendrils of mist still clinging to the forest treetops. The mist was heavier than usual this morning. There was a dampness to the air which meant rain was in the offing.
The heat was already oppressive and stuck to his skin.
He glanced at Georgiana who was staring at him with her innocent green eyes and stirring his dragon lust.
There was no time to dwell on thoughts of her exquisite body, for a hot breeze now carried the scent of demon toward him. Brihann’s demons were finally making their presence known.
There was no chance of taking her to the Razor Cliffs and freedom now. But he had a week before he was due to return to Brihann’s palace for a war council with the other Dragon Lords. Seven days to form a plan to help Georgiana escape the Underworld.
However, this was not his only concern.
A great war was about to break out between the realms of man and demon, if Brihann had his way. How was he to keep Georgiana safe once she was out of his realm?
“My lord, is something wrong?” Georgiana was studying his scowling face and must have noticed his subtle tension in his stance. “What do you see out there?”
“There isn’t much to see yet. But the day is young and the thick clouds will disappear once the storm passes. Ours is the same as your English rain. Just water and nothing for you to fear.” However, he’d just caught Brihann’s particularly foul scent and he was a creature to fear.
Why was Brihann out there?
It was one thing for the High King to send his demon scouts to spy on him, or to send his demon armies to block his path to the Razor Cliffs, for that was the access to the demon portal opening onto Friar’s Crag. Georgiana’s home was not far from that ominous red mountain no mortal man ever dared go near.
But it was quite another thing for Brihann to actually lead his demon armies. There was only one reason for it.
Georgiana.
He swore silently.
She had to escape the Underworld this very day.
Can I not have even one more day with her?
He knew the answer, and the Stone of Draloch’s silence confirmed it.
Georgiana was not meant to remain with him.
She had spoken of love and betrothal. Perhaps she would not know love with the one she called Oliver, but it was best for her to go through with the wedding. Brihann would lose interest in her once she was wed to another.
There was no question that Oliver would marry her. As the wealthy daughter of Penrith, she would still be desirable to her betrothed. The blackguard would overlook all scandal to have her dowry.
He fought back the urge to kill Oliver.
The man would soon have Georgiana.
He sorely wanted to kill Oliver.
“You’re angry again.” Georgiana placed her small hand on his arm.
“Not at you.” Keeping to his purpose and helping Georgiana escape was no easy matter now that Georgiana had lain beside him. She’d sought him out in her sleep last night, coming to his side in tears and pain.
“My arms hurt,” she’d said.
He’d wrapped her in his embrace so that she might be soothed by the heat of his body, by the dragon fire she aroused in him.
Could he ever give her up now? The insistent urge to possess her, the unrelenting need to claim her for his own, grew stronger with each passing hour.
All the more reason to give her up now.
Another day. Another hour. And he wouldn’t have the strength to let her go. He’d felt the soft perfection of her body against his and knew she was meant to be his dragon mate.
Brihann knew it as well and now meant to take her from him to use as a weapon against him. This must have been Brihann’s purpose all along, to give him the hope of love and then snatch it from him.
Keep Georgiana safe.
She was his weakness.
She drove him mad with wanting.
Madness surely had taken hold of her as well last night. Had she been awake, she would never have walked over to his pallet and stretched out beside him. By the Stone of Draloch! She’d settled atop him so that her breasts were pressed against his chest and her slender legs entwined around his thighs.
She’d burrowed against him, clutched his shoulders, and held on as though she never wanted to let him go.
He did not think she could have acted so foolishly on her own.
Was the Stone of Draloch responsible for this mischief?
Or had Georgiana’s heart led her to his side?
Dragon Lords were demons of the highest order, creatures of an ancient heritage who conquered and plundered. It would have taken nothing for him to roll her onto her back and bury himself deep inside her body.
Perhaps the same madness that lured her into his arms also prevented him from taking advantage and claiming her for his own.
There was no other explanation for his decision to rein in the violent urge to mate with her. “Are you hungry, Georgiana? Cook will have left a tray for us by the door.” He needed time to think.
He needed time to teach her to defend herself.
She nodded. “Famished.”
He crossed the room in three strides and paused at the heavy wood door. “I want you to eat quickly and get dressed.”
“Very well, but I have no clothes. What am I expected to wear? Do you have something more colorful than your black shirts?” She grinned at him, but it quickly faded when she noticed he wasn’t in good humor. “We’re in danger again, aren’t we?”
He decided to tell her the truth. “You’re in danger. You must be ready to leave here at a moment’s notice.” He whistled sharply, summoning Charon and Styx who had been standing guard beside his bed to protect Georgiana.
They had quietly followed her to his pallet last night, but he’d ordered them to stay back. He hadn’t wanted their big bodies snorting and drooling atop him.
No, he’d only wanted the pleasure of her soft body against his own. He’d been lulled into a peaceful sleep by her light, breathy snores against his ear.
When had he ever slept so contentedly, even if it was only for an hour or two?
His dogs now took up positions in front of Georgiana so that they stood between her and the door.
She continued to gaze at him in confusion. “Leave? But you just said you didn’t know–”
“I still don’t know why you are here or how to get you safely out, but there’s far more danger in your staying. Brihann is approaching and he’s coming for you. He can’t be more than an hour or two away.”
“Didn’t he give me to you as a gift?”
“And now he’s realized his mistake and means to take you back. Perhaps it wasn’t a mistake at all, that he knew… never mind. The point is, he’s dangerous to you.” He picked up his axe and opened the door to peer down the hall.
Empty.
Only Thomas, his steward, was ever permitted to come up to his tower quarters without being summoned.
He glanced down and saw the breakfast tray. Thomas must have brought it up from the kitchen a few moments ago. Steam still rose from under the silver salvers that held eggs, kippers, and freshly baked buns. He’d purposely asked for foods that were familiar to Georgiana.
His dragon scent would detect anything amiss with this meal.
He inhaled lightly. No one had tampered with it.
He picked up the tray and set it on the table, then strode back to fetch the other packages that had been left beside his door.
Georgiana’s new clothes and slippers.
Her wedding gown had been ruined, but he couldn’t return Georgiana to her family wearing only his shirt. By the Stone of Draloch! She looked so beautiful in it, so naturally alluring with her tousled blonde locks spilling over her shoulders.
And her big, green eyes so trusting as she continued to regard him with confusion.
He knelt and held out the packages for Charon and Styx to smell. They would growl if these garments had ever been worn before. But his dogs didn’t make a sound, merely continued to sniff the packages out of curiosity.
Georgiana shook her head. “What are they doing?”
Bloodaxe rose and placed the packages on the bed. “These are your new clothes. Slippers, too. My dogs are making certain no demon taint is on them.”
She gasped softly. “I’ve just realized something. Oh, how stupid of me! You’re a demon and yet you carry no such taint on you. Why is that?”
The comment surprised him even though he ought to have realized the special connection between them would affect her senses. “You’re wrong. I do carry the foul stench of darkness. Perhaps it is not quite as foul as the High King’s, but it is there.”
“It isn’t.” She shook her head vehemently. “Your scent is that of honey. Mostly that, but there’s also a masculine mix of pine forest and rugged mountains.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t believe mountains give off a scent.”
“They do. Cool air and rich earth.”
“You’re wrong, Georgiana. Dragons smell like slimy toads.” Sighing, he motioned for her to sit at the table. “Let me look at your arms first. Your eyes look…” Beautiful. “Slightly glazed. You may be running a fever.”
She obeyed his command and sat, but frowned at him. “I’m not running a fever.”
He drew his seat close to better inspect her wounds. But as he took her hands in his and leaned in to roll up her sleeves, she surprised him by putting her nose to his neck and inhaling deeply. He drew back. “What are you doing?”
“Proving you a liar. I knew it. Your scent is that of honey.” Her soft lips grazed his throat. “If I’m never to see you again, I want to remember all that I can of you.”
Remember him? No, he would fix that by casting a spell of forgetfulness over her once she was safely back home. He didn’t want her to recall their time spent together, for she needed to move on and put him out of her mind. Unfortunately, he could not do the same for himself.
He would never forget her.
But he could indulge himself in these last moments.
It would take nothing for him to turn his head ever so slightly and lower his mouth to hers. One kiss.
She would be gone from his life forever within a matter of hours.
Did he dare?
“Eat quickly and get dressed.” He abruptly rolled down the sleeves of her shirt… his shirt… and strode to his night table where the ewer of water stood. He hastily washed and dressed and then told her to do the same. He opened the last of the packages that contained her new clothes. Would they fit her?
They’d been prepared in haste and without benefit of her exact measurements, only what he could estimate. He was familiar with a woman’s body, but he was no seamstress and could only describe what he’d observed of her shapely body.
Her breasts were ample enough to fill the cups of his palms, but not so large as to be overflowing.
Her waist was small enough that his hands could span it.
Her hips were not much larger than her waist. She would have trouble delivering a child, certainly any offspring of his seed.
He dismissed the thought.
There would be no coupling with Georgiana. “Are you done eating?”
She nodded.
He handed her the new garments. “Wash and dress as fast as you can. Bolt the door behind me. Keep away from the windows. I’ll ride out with my forces to see if I can distract him from his purpose. If I fail, be ready to leave here. We’ll have to move fast.”
He had dressed in his usual black. He wore the leather hauberk he always donned before a battle and secured his axe in its sheath at his hip.
He spared her a glance, finding it hard to part from her even though she’d been in his life no more than a day. She was holding up the gold kirtle and green overtunic he’d ordered sewn for her and inspecting them. The green was the deep, rich tone of new spring grass. The gold was the bright gold of sunlight, the one thing all demons feared.
She clutched the clothes to her chest as he approached. “I thought you were leaving.”
“I am.” He eased the garments out of her hands.
“Mother in heaven,” she whispered as he caught her up in his arms.
And then he kissed her.
*
Mother in heaven.
Georgiana’s heart soared the moment he touched her. She ought to have been terrified and fighting him off. Instead, she stood on her toes and circled her arms around his neck, eager to lean into his warrior’s body and give herself over to the wondrous sensation of his kiss.
She knew his touch.
She knew his lips.
How did she know this man? She struggled to think, but his lips were on hers, probing and possessive, and she couldn’t hold a single thought other than she wanted to belong to him. Oh, his kiss. So filled with longing and desperation. His mouth pressed down on hers, urgent and demanding, and at the same time it seemed as if he were reining in his passion, as though he feared to hurt her with the power of his need.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her against his muscled body so that she could feel the taut planes of his broad chest. Keeping one arm around her, he put his other hand to the back of her head, his fingers winding in her wild curls to hold her steady. Did he think she would pull away?
How could she ever want to draw away from him when the power of his desire filled her? His strength flowed through her like a molten pool of lava filling every lonely crevice of her heart.
The turbulent feelings he evoked in her were at the same time frightening and thrilling.
“I know you, my lord. Sweet mercy, how is it possible? Why is your kiss so familiar?”
“It can’t be.” His mouth closed over hers once more, the touch of his lips on hers sparking a fire within her that would not be quelled. But how? What was this heat surging through her body? She pressed her lips against his, and did not resist when he slid his tongue between them to tease them apart.
She breathed him in.
She tasted him on her lips.
She felt the iron strength of his arms that held her close to his body. Curiously, they were not confining. Quite the opposite, his touch seemed to set her yearning free. She ran her hands along his bulging muscles and down his broad back. She wanted to run her fingers along his hot, smooth skin, but he was dressed for battle and she could not dig through the layers that covered his body.
She clutched his shoulders, but only managed to clasp the worn leather of his hauberk and the soft linen of his shirt in her fists.
He thrust again to tease her lips apart. She opened her mouth to allow his tongue to slide in, for he was deepening the kiss and stirring her passion. She was a virgin, but understood the act of mating. How soon before he probed lower and entered her there.
And was she mad to desire it?
“By the Stone of Draloch,” he said in whisper, easing his lips off hers and setting her down gently before moving away. “Why did you not stop me?”
Her heart was pounding like a war drum in her chest. “Could I have?”
He nodded. “Aye, a word from you is all it would have taken.”
She doubted it, and yet he did not appear to be in jest. “I didn’t want to,” she admitted, although it was folly to do so. She didn’t wish to encourage him, but neither was she sorry for this kiss that both of them appeared to need with an inexplicable desperation. “I’ve never kissed any man like this before. Not even Oli–”
“Do not mention his name.” A darkness swirled amid the blue of his eyes. She’d seen it before. But it flickered out quickly. “I do not wish to hear about this man who intends to claim you as his wife.”
“Assuming I make it out of here alive.”
He appeared offended. “Do you doubt I will protect you?”
“No, I don’t doubt you.” She shook her head. “But you’re worried that you might not succeed. This realm is a cruel place, or so you’ve told me. And I’ve experienced it.” She held up her arms that were covered by the long sleeves of his shirt that she was still wearing.
He frowned, but gave her cheek a light caress. “I had better see what Brihann wants. Get dressed, Georgie. Be ready for my return. And if I tell you to run, then do it. Don’t look back. Just keep the two moons to your right and that will keep you heading west. You’ll come to a range of tall mountains. That’s your passageway out of here. The mountain rock is sharp and will likely cut your hands, but ignore the pain. Keep climbing and don’t stop for anything.”
“Won’t there be demons to stop me?”
“Lots. I’ll take care of them. All you need to do is climb.”
She glanced at the battle axe he carried so casually at his side. “Will you give me a weapon? Something more effective than the eating knife I took last night?”
“No. Your wits are your best defense.” He studied her a moment longer. “Besides, you were brought here for a purpose that is beyond my comprehension. Whatever force placed you here is not about to let you die.”
“Unless it is my time,” she said quietly.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her to him. “By the Stone of Draloch, it is not your time. I think I would feel it in my very bones. I would feel it in the last vestiges of the soul I thought I had lost years ago. You aren’t meant to die.”
Why would he feel it in his bones? Or to the very depths of his soul?
He couldn’t unless they were connected somehow. They were. They had to be. He’d poured his heart into their kiss. Even though demons weren’t supposed to have hearts or noble thoughts or feelings. But his every thought and act had been to protect her.
She gasped. “Do you believe you’re the one who’s meant to die?”
The possibility left her bereft.
He arched an eyebrow. “I am not afraid of death.”
“No, I didn’t think you would be. I also think there are times you long for it.” She surprised him by rising on tiptoes to give him a soft kiss on his tense jaw. “If this is to be our last meeting… I want you to know that I shall keep you in my heart always.”
He looked at her as though she’d stuck a knife between his ribs. “Don’t you dare.”
He strode out, leaving her behind with Charon and Styx.