Draknart could not take his gaze off the goddess, for the goddess would not release him. But from the corner of his eye, he saw Einin on her feet again, taking one stumbling step after the other toward Belinus as the god drew her.

“Your gift pleases me, dragon,” the god said.

Draknart struggled to move, muscles popping, sweat pouring down his body, but he was as weak as a pup in his human form.

“No!” he roared. “She’s not to be taken!”

The swirling column of light that was the goddess suddenly stilled. The great pressure that held Draknart to the ground eased. Not enough for him to get up, but enough so he could breathe easier.

“You’d be willing to face a god’s displeasure for her?” The goddess’s sharp tone was tempered by fascination. “You claim her as yours?”

“She is her own,” Draknart growled the words, baring his teeth.

The goddess laughed. “Dragon, are you in love?” The column of light bent at the top as she gave him a closer look. “You angered me for many years. Centuries. Now I suddenly find you amusing. Never before have I been surprised by one of your kind. Maybe all of you are not as dreadfully predictable as I thought.”

He bowed his head deep, nearly to the ground. “I beg you, goddess, do with me as you wish, only save Einin from Belinus.”

A gale of laughter filled the clearing. “You are in love. How delightful.” She considered him for a long moment. “Let us make a bargain.”

“Aye.” He would agree to anything as long as Belinus didn’t take Einin into Feyland with him.

“You accept my curse. You will remain a halfling until your death. Neither in man’s world, nor in dragon’s, reviled and hunted by all. A permanent curse, willingly taken, that cannot ever be lifted.”

Every cell of his body protested, everything that he was and had ever been screamed No! inside him.

Cursed forever. Gods, but forever was a long time for a dragon. He could live another thousand years or more. Cursed. The thought made him want to rage, made him want to hurl himself from the nearest tall cliff.

“Aye,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Long after the human woman is dead and gone, you will be halfling still. For centuries and centuries, until one of your kind finds you when you’re weak and devours you for breakfast.”

“Aye.”

“This woman might not want you. She’s filled with anger now. She might leave you as soon as Belinus releases her. But you will still remain a halfling forever.”

“Aye.”

The pillar of light that was the goddess drew back. “You surprise me, dragon.” Her stillness dissolved into movement, a swirling column of white. “So be it.”

Her next words echoed in his head, and he knew she spoke them to him alone. Nobody else could hear them.

“I curse you anew, yet balance must be kept, so I will bless her. For each day she willingly stays with you, a day will be added to her short human life. But she must never learn about this blessing. She must stay with you for love, not to extend the number of her days. Should she ever find out, my blessing will end.”

“Aye.”

For a single moment, the air shimmered and Draknart could not draw a breath. Then the terrible wave of disorientation passed, and the goddess’s attention turned to the god. Power pulsed from her in waves, the air becoming heavy and potent.

“Jealous, my love?” the god teased.

The goddess expanded. “Enough to burn the world.”

This time, the deep chuckle that came from the god sounded pleased. He shone brighter. His boundaries grew and grew, until Draknart could no longer look at either one of them. He only sensed them moving toward each other. When they touched, the explosion of energy knocked him on his back. The hold on him was released.

Pure divine power blew through the clearing like a storm.

Draknart crawled to Einin, head down, as if fighting strong headwinds. He was unable to stand. She lay still on the ground, pale but breathing. The god’s attention and then the explosion of power had overwhelmed her human body.

The storm raged hard, then harder, until she was in danger of being blown away. Draknart clawed at the earth, wishing for his talons, holding on to clumps of grass as he moved forward. Then he reached her at last and sheltered her in his arms as he carried her behind the giant rock formation, this time the storm and the wind at his back, helping him move away from the gods whose light and energy swirled, threatening to erupt.

Draknart hurled himself into an indentation in the rock, barely a cave, so small that his dragon body would have filled it to the brim. But as he hid Einin in the most sheltered corner, putting his own body between her and danger, he found more room ahead, then more and more as the cave seemed to expand—either the god or the goddess giving them room to survive.

He kept going with gratitude in his heart, all the way to the very back of the cave, into darkness.

Einin revived and startled, struggled in his arms. As she had no dragon vision, she probably saw nothing.

“It is I, Draknart. I have you, sweeting.” He had to raise his voice. ’Twas loud as an ocean storm out there. Draknart thought they were unlikely to find a single tree standing if they were lucky enough to ever leave the cave alive.

“Have I been struck blind?”

The panic in her voice made him hold her tighter. “We are in the dark of the cave.”

She settled against his chest, as if the clash with the angry deities had exhausted her near unto death. “And the gods?”

He did not set Einin down but cradled her as he turned so she’d be next to the rock wall while he stood between her and the cave’s opening, shielding her with his body. “The gods are mating.”

“It seems very terrible.”

“’Tis not meant to be witnessed by lesser beings.” Which worried him more than anything else at this stage.

The appearance of the cave meant that either the god or the goddess meant to shelter them. But the threat that their protector would forget about them in the height of passion was real. And then what? Would Draknart and Einin be sealed inside the rock?

Yet the cave was their best chance for survival. Going outside was certain suicide.

Draknart loosened his arms around Einin as she wriggled to slip her feet to the ground. He was prepared to let her go, but she put her arms around his waist and held on tight.

She lay her head on his chest as she shouted toward his ear, “Can we survive?”

Had he his great dragon body, Draknart likely could have protected her. He could have flown her out of here even against the gale that raged outside. But as a weak human… Frustration burned his insides.

When he didn’t respond, Einin clung to him tighter. “Will we die?”

He told her the truth. “Aye. We might.”

Before he could say more, a wave of pure lust hit them. Einin gasped, dropping to her knees before Draknart could catch her, his own arms loosened.

“What…” Her expression turned confused, her gaze filling with desperation.

He reached for her to pull her up, but then he ended up lowering himself onto the ground next to her. Best to save his strength to fight what was to come.

The urge to rip off her clothes and mate with her was sudden and overpowering. A ferocious growl escaped him, his hands curled into fists, his breathing labored as he leaned toward her, unable to resist.

“Pull your sword,” his ragged tone was filled with primal need. Never had he felt more like a wild animal than at this moment. “Fight me off.”

She stared at him with lust-glazed eyes. A brief flicker of recognition at the bottom of her gaze said that, for a moment, she grasped what was happening. But she was as powerless as he. With a soft cry, she threw herself into his arms.

His mouth took hers in a rough kiss. She let him in, but if she hadn’t, he might have used his tongue to force her already swollen lips to part. Nothing existed but his need for her, his urgent need to be inside her tight, wet heat.

He ripped her clothes away without stopping the savage kiss, and she clawed his naked back, not in protest but to urge him to hurry.

She is a virgin. Untouched. She will hurt.

The thoughts had no substance in his brain. They were like the mist over the meadows at dawn, there one moment, disappearing the next. He was so filled with lust, no room remained for logical thought, or good intentions.

He pushed her down onto the dirt floor of the cave and settled himself between her legs. Her slim thighs immediately wrapped around his waist, her small but strong hands kneading his chest, then sliding down his rib cage.

“Slow down!” He didn’t know which one of them he was ordering.

Neither of them obeyed.

His swollen, throbbing hardness was poised at her opening, touching the wet entrance as she squirmed under him. He found the strength to hold still.

“No.” His hand tightened on her shoulder, and he gently shook her. “Einin, sweeting. I want you more than I want to live, but we should wait.” The words hurt coming up his throat, as if they were carpentry nails.

“Draknart, I need… I need so much…”

“I know, sweeting.” He wasn’t going to move. Not if staying still killed him. “Think of something else.”

“I’ve seen you naked more than I’ve seen you with your clothes on.”

“Not that.”

“You look different from the men in the village. When I look at them, I feel nothing. When I look at you, I feel warmth filling my belly, and lower.”

He groaned. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“I thought about it. I planned it even.”

“Good. Think about that.”

“I don’t want to kill you right now.”

“Maybe you should. Where is that damned sword?”

“I want to touch you.”

His arms trembled. “You’re touching me.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“It’s a bad idea.”

“I want you to touch me everywhere.”

“Not like this.”

“You tasted me before. You can taste me again, if you wish.”

“If I wish?” He gave a strangled laugh. “Never mind. Mayhap it’s better if we don’t talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. I want you to take me like a man takes a woman.”

“Eini—”

She cut him off with a desperate cry as she surged up under him and impaled herself on his straining manhood. “Please.”

Her second cry was a cry of surprise at the pain, her tight channel struggling to take him. She clung to him, his large shaft only half inside her.

She squirmed. And he swore when he realized that she squirmed not to get away but to take him deeper.

“Yes. Please. More,” she begged.

Sweat beaded on his brows. His voice was a broken whisper. “Einin. Sweeting. Stop. It’s not too late.”

His arms shook. He’d never done a more difficult thing in all his dragon life than holding still just then. She was so incredibly tight around him, her face so intent, her gaze burning into his. Her body moving, moving, moving.

“Einin!”

The power of the gods’ lust outside crested then ebbed. Draknart shifted his body to move away.

Einin held on to his shoulders, her eyes clear. “Don’t go.”

He stilled. “Einin?”

“Stay.”

“You don’t want this,” he warned her.

Choice was important to her. She wanted to decide her own fate. Not only did he know that by now, but he fully understood it at last. As a dragon, nearly all the choices in his life had been his—except for the goddess’s curse. Einin’s life had been the opposite.

He was never going to take a choice away from her.

“If you wish…” He held himself in rigid control. “If you still wish, at another time, we could…”

“I wish now.”

His body trembled with need. “You choose this?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

“You would choose it even if the gods hadn’t—”

“Even if.”

A fierce, fiery pleasure spread through him. He sank into her inch by slow inch. He died and was reborn at least twice before he was fully sheathed inside her incredible heat at last. He needed all his strength to hold still for a few more moments so she could adjust to his size. His lungs bellowed. He wanted to talk to her, but he found himself without the ability to speak.

He held back, and held, and held, and held, until tremors shook his entire body, until steam replaced his brain in his head, until all coherent thought evaporated.

After endless, impossible, torturous moments, he eased back, then forged forward, into her, all the way, again. They were both gasping for air, her tight sheath strangling him. He reached for strength he didn’t know he had as he began to move in her gently instead of the urgent, violent coupling he craved.

He glanced between them as he worked himself in and out of her, her juices glistening on his manhood, along with the smears of her virgin blood. A single, savage, primal thought drummed in his brain, that she was his. She would hate that thought. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop it. He was too much of a beast.

He dipped his head and kissed her deeply and thoroughly, then moved his lips down her throat and drew her tight nipple into his mouth. He didn’t have enough restraint left to be gentle there, so he sucked hard.

She squirmed against him again, the hands on his shoulder pulling him closer once more instead of pushing him away. When he looked up at her face, her eyes were rolled back in her head from pleasure.

Another wave of the gods’ lust rose outside.

Draknart lost the last of his control then and plunged into Einin as he craved. He took her roughly, madly, deeply. He ground himself into her, one hand holding her by the back of her neck, the other sliding between them to caress her swollen nub.

She spent with a cry that echoed through the cave, her muscles gripping him so tightly, he felt light-headed from the pleasure. As he spilled his seed deep inside her, out of his mouth came the roar of a dragon.

He waited to pull out until he softened a little, to make it easier on her. Not that he softened much. He dropped to the ground next to her, then rolled on his back as they panted side by side in the semidarkness of the cave.

“Have I hurt you badly?” he asked when he could speak.

Long moments passed before she answered, courage glinting in her eyes. “I’ve been hurt worse.”

He remembered the scars on her back. He flinched. “I am sorry, sweeting.”

“My body feels…” She trailed off, then she tried again, “My body feels…” But she couldn’t finish on the second try either.

“I swear, if I could have stopped it, I would have. I would have if it killed me.” He gathered her against him with all the tenderness he possessed. “Is it terribly bad?”

“It’s an ache, but it’s more than an ache. I need… I still need…” Once again, she didn’t know how to finish, but she rubbed the juncture of her thighs against his thigh in a tentative gesture of seeking.

He was hard as an anvil already. The gods were still swirling the storms of passion outside.

Einin explored his chest with her slim fingers.

He flattened her hand against his hot skin under his palm. “I don’t want to hurt you even more.”

She stilled. But a moment later, her lips brushed against his shoulder, as if she couldn’t stop.

He knew how she felt. The air was thick with lust. And now the cave held the scent of their lovemaking and mutual arousal. His sensitive dragon nose could not avoid it. His body pulsed with need so sharp as to be on the edge of pain.

“When will it stop?” Even as she asked, she bit him.

Hot pleasure cut through him as her small teeth sank into his skin. “When the gods finish.”

She moved over him, sprawling over his body, burying her face into his neck as if trying to hide. “I can’t. I can’t,” she begged, but then she kissed his collarbone and sucked on his skin.

He wrapped his arms around her, the thought that he couldn’t keep her safe killing him. “I know.”

She squirmed on top of him, on his hardness. “But I need…” She nearly cried with the words.

He soothed the delicate curve of her back with his large hands. “I know, sweeting.”

A sob escaped her.

“Straddle me,” he said.

She sat at once, one knee on either side of him, her pale breasts glowing in the darkness of the cave.

Draknart folded his hands under his head so he couldn’t grab her. “Do what you want, sweeting. Take what you need.”

She squirmed in distress, not fully understanding. “I need…” She gasped in distress. “Inside me.”

“Take it, then. As slow as you need. As much as helps.”

Understanding at last, she rose to her knees, then reached for his full hardness. When her fingers closed around him, he couldn’t help the groan that tore from his throat. He thrust into her hands. When she didn’t protest, he kept thrusting. He didn’t stop until she brought him to her opening.

He didn’t want to hurt her again, so he held himself completely still as she slowly, experimentally lowered herself onto him.

She took in only the swollen head at first, then sank a bit lower, then another bit. She winced and gasped all the way down, but she took him in to the root. Then she squirmed to adjust to him being inside her again, and the next gasp that left her lips was a sound of pleasure.

Her gaze begged him. She was clearly at a loss as to what to do next.

“Ride me as you would a horse.”

The image that immediately invaded his head was nearly enough to make him spend inside her all over again. He gritted his teeth to hold still instead of grabbing her hips and pumping into her with wild abandon.

She began to move, up and down, riding, grinding. She let her head fall back, her silken hair cascading down her sweet body. Her puckered nipples thrust forward with every move she made.

He wanted to touch them but didn’t dare remove his hands from under his head. He would not take over. He would stop himself.

Yet he couldn’t stop himself completely.

“Take your nipples between your fingers for me, sweeting,” he told her, “and roll them.”

She looked shocked, but she was desperate for something more, and she trusted that what he advised would help. So she cupped her firm breasts in her small hands, covered them with her palms first, ran a tentative caress over her nipples, and moaned, her eyes glazing over.

“Now pinch them,” he ordered.

She did and cried out in shocked delight.

His hips began to move. He couldn’t help it. “Pinch them tighter.”

She did, her breathing growing hard and uneven.

“Now roll them.”

She obeyed, and rode him faster, rougher.

When she spent her pleasure, squeezing him, milking him, Draknart lost his control. He grabbed her, rolled her onto her stomach, lifted her hips, with her face resting on her folded arms on the cave floor, and plunged into her tight opening from behind.

She cried out. But as he pounded his need into her, she began pushing back, meeting him thrust for thrust, arching her back, her soft moans begging him to bring her to completion once again.

He reached around her with one hand and found her throbbing nub, pinched it and rolled it, the same as she’d done with her nipples. The gods be damned, he couldn’t stop, he didn’t want to stop, he wanted everything she had.

When she flew apart in his arms, he at last shot his seed inside her pulsing, tight channel.

Later, as they lay next to each other, Draknart cursed the gods again. He’d wanted Einin, but not like this, not without control. Not when neither of them could make the choice for themselves.

He understood then that the goddess had not forgiven him. The years she’d given to Einin were no years at all. The goddess expected Einin to run from the dragon in the morning. How could she not, after Draknart had spent the night ravaging her body?

She wouldn’t ever want to see him again.