Dragon Actually (28 page)

Was this to be her life from now on? Trapped in this human body, forced to cook food for an angry-looking peasant?

Couldn’t her mother have just killed her instead? Wouldn’t it have been kinder?

“I don’t see that beautiful ass moving, Princess.”

She glared at him, about to tell him to go to hell, when her stomach rumbled. By the gods! What was
that
sound? Was she dying?

She looked down at her stomach, her hands clasped over it, and for the first time ever, she heard Bercelak laugh. Even more shocking . . . she kind of liked the sound of it.

“You are merely hungry, Rhiannon,” he said kindly. “Do as I ask and we’ll eat soon enough. I promise.”

Groaning in annoyance, she slid off the boulder and walked over to the pit fire. As he said, he had potatoes and some other vegetables out beside a large pot filled with water. Another bowl of water beside it. Crouching down, she studied the food in front of her. In fact, she studied the food for about five minutes, until she heard the low-born lean his long body over and, his snout right behind her, say, “What, exactly, are you doing?”

She ignored that shudder his low voice elicited in her body. Dammit, she
had
to ignore it! “Deciding my next plan of action.”

“To cook potatoes, you need a plan of action?”

“Everything in life needs a plan of action, Low Born. I just don’t randomly do things and hope everything turns out all right.”

“But where’s the excitement in that? The fun?”

“Fun?” She looked at him over her shoulder. “When do
you
ever have fun?”

“I have fun,” he snapped. “In fact, I’m a very fun person.”

“Really?” She turned and faced him. “And what do you do for fun?”

“Lots of things.”

“Do most of those things involve killing something?”

“On occasion,” he grumbled.

“Exactly.”

“Well what do you do for fun?”

She shrugged. “I enjoy when the villagers near my den run for their lives.” She grinned. “All that screaming.”

He shook his head, the tip of his snout brushing against her human body. “I guess that’s something.”

The low-born leaned back, returning to the carcass. She had to admit, at least to herself, it smelled delicious. And, dammit, so did he.

“I must say, Princess, I’m surprised you haven’t been able to shift back yet.”

She shrugged. “My skills have always been weaker than my mother’s.”

“That seems strange. White dragons are known for their powers.”

“Well, apparently I’m the exception to the rule.” She stared at the potato. Odd-looking vegetable. “My Magick has always been weaker and I’m much smaller than most dragons. One of the wizards who trained me called me the runt of the litter.”

“That’s a cruel thing to say. I can kill him for you, if you’d like.”

Rhiannon barely bit back her smile of surprise. No one had ever offered to kill another for her—at least no one she ever believed. But she believed Bercelak. “No. No. That’s not necessary. He merely spoke the truth.”

“Well, there’s truth and then there’s just being a right bastard.”

“You know, you’re not . . .” She stopped herself abruptly, but the dragon’s black eyes were on her in a second.

“I’m not what?”

“Well . . . you’re not quite what I expected.”

“And what did you expect?”

“To use your words . . . a right bastard, I guess.” Definitely not one who would cook her a meal. And he hadn’t yelled at her once. She really expected him to be much more . . . brutal. Brutal and deadly and he wouldn’t be happy until she was crying . . . which she would never do.

“That I can be . . . during battle. I don’t feel the need to be that way when I’m home.”

Squeezing the potato to see if it was juicy like fruit, she muttered, “There are some who say you’re cruel. Heartless. And not just to our enemies.”

“And who says these things?”

“You want me to tell you so you can go and hunt them down? I have not forgotten that before you were Bercelak the Great you were Bercelak the Vengeful.”

“Do you know how I got that name?”

“No.” And she shouldn’t care, but she was kind of curious.

“Because of Soaic.”

Ahh, Soaic. She’d taken a turn with him once. It was all right, but nothing that she’d write down in a diary. Plus, he feared her. They all did. To be truthful, her reputation wasn’t much better than Bercelak’s, and she had yet to wake up with the dragon she’d gone to sleep with. They slipped out like they feared she’d wake and simply kill them for her amusement.

“Aye. Soaic.” She shrugged. “He has had much to say about you.”

Bercelak poured liquid over the cooking carcass. “That’s what I thought. You know that scar Soaic has on his right hind quarter? The one that even his scales can’t hide?”

“Aye. He received that during the battle of—”

“He received it when I ripped him open from hip to claw.”

“Why would you do that?” Not knowing what else to do with the stupid potato in her hand, Rhiannon dropped it into the water.

“Did you clean that first?”

Growling, she stood and turned to face him. “Did you tell me to clean it first?”

“You’ve truly never cooked for yourself before?”

“Not only am I a princess—so I don’t have to—I’m a dragon. There’s a universe of cattle at my disposal. Why would I waste time cooking
anything? Ever?
”

“Have you never spent any time around humans? At all?”

“Only when I talk to them before feeding. But I don’t do that often. I find when they start sobbing it’s harder to have a peaceful meal.”

He chuckled at her words. Bercelak had never laughed at anything. At least that was the rumor in court. But she’d gotten him to laugh twice.
She
did. Rhiannon bit the inside of her mouth to stop from smiling with pride.

Bercelak shifted, grabbed a pair of black breeches, and pulled them on.

She frowned, confused at why he was putting on clothes. He saw her expression and shrugged. “Trust me, Princess. This will be much easier if I’m dressed.”

With a sniff of dismissal, she turned away from him. Closing her eyes, Rhiannon worked hard to ignore the beauty of the dragon. And all those battle scars did nothing but enhance it. She’d never reacted this way to any male, dragon or human. Perhaps it was this unruly human body she had to tolerate. She didn’t know, but she did know she didn’t like it.

“You never told me why you attacked Soaic.”

“He spoke ill of my father.” He reached around her and pulled the potato out of the boiling water, casually dropping it back on the pile. “I don’t allow anyone to speak of my father that way.”

“You allowed me.” Rhiannon winced. “Well that came out horribly wrong.”
What if the big bastard hadn’t noticed
?

 He gently tugged a strand of her hair. “True, but I had no intention of mating with Soaic.”

She slowly turned to face him. Although he didn’t touch her, he still stood as close as possible. She could smell him and he smelled quite nice. No perfume like some of the royals. Nor the smell of blood for those who took less care cleaning themselves.

“We, Low Born, are not mating.”

“Yes we are.”

“No. We’re not.”

“Why?” And he seemed truly perplexed. “Have you never been—”

“Before you even finish that statement . . . no. I’m not a virgin. Haven’t been for quite some time. I leave virginal female royalty to the humans.”

“So then I don’t understand why you’re so set against us being together. We’re both attractive and of breeding age. Both extremely intelligent. And quite worthy of each other’s company. So I’m not sure what the problem is”

Oh, well when he puts it like that
. . . . “Did you think my mother’s orders would send me willingly to you?”

He frowned in confusion. “What does your mother have to do with anything?”

“I’m only here because of her.”

“True. But you’ll stay, Princess, because of me.”

She laughed. Dragons were naturally arrogant, but by the dark gods of fire this one made the rest of them look insecure and unsure of themselves.

“Will I now? And why would I do that?” She glanced around his sparse cave fit for a battle-dragon rarely home, but not a princess. “Your grand riches? Your royal standing? Really . . . what reason would I have to stay other than this human body cannot fly?”

She was pushing him. She knew she was and yet she couldn’t stop herself. And when he didn’t answer right away, she felt a vague sense of disappointment. She truly thought he’d be up to the challenge. Unlike others in her mother’s court. Shame she was wrong.

“That’s what I thought.” She sniffed again and turned, walking off. He could fix his own damn potatoes.

But she never should have turned her back on him. His hand threaded through her hair and snatched her back to his side. She braced her hands against his big chest, but he pulled until she looked up at him.

It wasn’t a vicious pull. Or even brutal. It was just . . . in control. And gods be damned . . . it felt so good.

“Don’t walk away from me when we’re talking.” He said it calmly. No trace of anger or rage. Actually, she saw amusement and lust in those dark eyes. Even his frown had faded a bit. “If you’re going to ask me a question, you have to give me time to answer.”

“Let me go,” she snapped.

“No. Not until we’re done.” His eyes roved over her face as he spoke, like he was drinking in her every detail. “Now, you asked me a question. You asked what I could give you to entice you to stay with me?”

He tugged the strands of hair he had a grip on and she desperately fought the urge to moan out loud.

“What I’ll give you is someone worthy of you. Someone who can handle a dragoness such as yourself. I don’t fear your rages. I don’t fear your acid tongue. In fact, I like you mean. The meaner, the better.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but another tug had her growling instead. “Except,” he continued, “when we mate. Then you’ll give yourself to me . . . completely. You’ll let me do whatever I want to this body. Whether human or dragon . . . because we’ll play with both, Princess. We’ll play a lot.” This time he grinned. A full grin showing beautiful white teeth and fangs as well as the handsomest human face she’d ever seen. Immediately her nipples hardened under the robe and a sudden, hot slickness slid down between her legs. “That’s not to say you shouldn’t put up a fight every once in a while. I don’t mind a few battle scars coming from you. But in the end, so to speak, you’ll submit to me. Willingly. Happily. And with a smile on this gorgeous face. And when you rule as queen, I’ll be by your side. Your consort. Your battle-dragon. I’ll protect your throne and you with a fierceness no one has ever known. You’ll wear my mark boldly and with utter pride. Together, we’ll breed sons and daughters who will make us proud and carry on our blood line. We’ll be a mating to be feared. To be spoken of in whispers. And when we go to meet our ancestors in the next world, we’ll spend eternity together. Terrifying those who came before us.”

His other hand came up, softly caressing her cheek then slipping down her jaw, her neck, until it slid under her robe and took firm but gentle hold of her breast. “That is what we’ll do, Princess. And that is why you’ll stay.” She panted as his hand squeezed her breast, his fingers playing with her sensitive nipple.

“Because at the end of the day, you’re going to love me. I promise you that.”

His mouth hovered close to hers and she lifted her chin a bit, waiting for him to kiss her. His lips brushed over hers and then he said, “Now. Let me show you how to make boiled potatoes so we can eat.”

He released her. Just like that. She stared at him in shock as he crouched down beside the boiling pot of water. “You see,” he said calmly, “first you have to clean off the potato before you cut it up.”

And for the first time in Princess Rhiannon’s life she didn’t know whether to kill or cry. At the moment, she was certain she might do both.

With a happy sigh, Rhiannon pushed the empty plate away and leaned back against the boulder. “All right,” she said while licking grease off each finger, “that was amazing.”

Bercelak smiled again and she was amazed his face hadn’t cracked. In more than seventy years, she’d never known the dragon to smile at anyone or anything. No matter what awards and treasure her mother bestowed on him or when others may have said something funny. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Princess.”

“What I don’t quite understand is . . . well . . .”

“Yes?”

“How you know so much about humans? You can cook like them. You know what they should eat. How they eat. What utensils to use.” They’d forgone the table when Bercelak couldn’t remember where he’d put it last.

Pouring more wine into her goblet, Bercelak confessed, “My father.”

She gasped. “Good gods, your father’s not a human?”

He shook his head. “Now that would be quite a trick . . . since humans and dragons can’t breed. No, Princess, he’s not human. He just prefers human company.”

“He does? Why?”

With a shrug, “I don’t know. He just does. He thinks they’re interesting. And he loves the females.”

Rhiannon shook her head and grinned. “Your father has quite a reputation.”

“Aye. That he does. And he’s damn proud of it. It’ll be interesting when you two meet.”

She looked up from her goblet of wine. “Meet? Why would we meet?”

“I have to introduce you to him before I Claim you. He’s rather insistent on some of the Old Ways.”

“I don’t want to be Claimed by you, Low Born.”

He growled. Low and deep from his chest. She ignored the odd little bumps that spread across her human skin, praying it wasn’t some kind of strange human disease.

“Stop calling me that. I do have a name.” For a brief moment, he sounded like a cranky hatchling, rather than a feared Battle Lord.

“Fine. I don’t want to be Claimed by
you
, Bercelak. But it’s not personal. I don’t want to be Claimed by anyone. No one has Claim on me and no one ever will.”

“But don’t you want to Claim someone? Don’t you want someone to breed with and to call your own?”