Dragon Knight's Axe (8 page)

When he reached the platform, he narrowed his eyes and glared at the two men by her side. They instantly stepped away.

As with everyone else, he was no different. He looked her up and down, though when he gazed into her eyes for a moment, Fiona saw confusion.

The demon spoke. “How much do ye want, Robert?”

“Ye cannot have her.” He spit onto the ground in front of the man.

The monster’s voice remained deadly calm. “And why would that be?”

“Ye have nothing to offer.”

Fiona saw the shift of color in the demon’s green eyes. It was enough for the man called Robert to back away.

“I dinnae want any trouble.”

The giant leaned his head down. “Would ye take these?” He pulled out a small pouch and opened it. Pulling out several stones, he held them aloft. “Amber from the Northmen’s homeland.”

Robert’s eyes went wide, but then he crossed his arms. “I will take the lot and a barrel of your whisky.”

The man arched a brow. “How do ye ken I have whisky?”

“Do ye take me for a fool, MacKay?”

“Nae, Robert, but only foolish if ye do not take my offer of ten stones and one barrel.”

The moments stretched out between the two men, and Fiona’s heart pounded in her chest. She was being traded for amber stones and a damn barrel of whisky.
And what had Robert called him?

“Done!” Robert spit into his hand and held it out.

Instead of shaking his hand, he dropped the ten stones onto his palm. He waved over his head and another man came forth. “Have Steiner bring me a barrel of my whisky.”

“The Kelly won’t be pleased.”

“Do not worry about him. I will send Steiner with another of my private stash.”

“Aye.”

Robert stepped aside. “I do not understand why ye would want this one.”

“I do not expect ye to,” replied her new captor.

Fiona’s eyes went wide when her demon took a hold of her rope and walked her away from the crowd.

As soon as they passed the hoard of people, he turned to face her. “What is your name, lass?”

Her tongue felt as if it were plastered to the roof of her mouth.

“Can ye not speak?” he asked.

“Fi…ona…Fiona O’Quinlan,” she stammered.

Chapter Ten

“There are times in life when the Fates have woven your life threads into knots. You may stay fixed on that path, or weave another.”

“
O’Quinlan?
” MacKay growled.

Fiona refused to show fear to her new captor. Until this horrid nightmare ceased and she woke, she would pretend it wasn’t real.

“Isn’t that what I said?”

Green eyes glared back at her. “So your brother sold ye. Why?”

She frowned in confusion. “I don’t have a brother.”

“Are ye not kin to the O’Quinlan of Navan?”

She swallowed. Memories of working on the dig in Navan came rushing back. Rory told her to take a walk, which led her wandering into an ancient grove of oaks.
What did he tell her? Was
it to rest
? Her head throbbed trying to recall his words.

Instinctively, she reached up to rub her temples as best she could. “I have no one,” she muttered.

“Humph! Follow me.”

“Do I have a choice?”

The man kept on walking. “Aye. I can sell ye back.”

Would he do that?
In truth, she would rather stay with this man than the other one. She felt safe, if you could call it that. And he wasn’t tugging her along like some sheep.

Gathering up the end of the rope, Fiona followed the man down the path, which curved along the water. Many smaller boats were docked at the edge, some with men, and others empty.

Where in God’s earth was she?

Tripping over a fallen log, Fiona fell flat on her face. “Ouch!”

At once, strong arms pulled her up. His face so close, she could see the dimple in his chin beneath the shadow of his beard. Yet, it was those lips that caught her attention—full and sensual. Lips that could devour a woman. A slight tremor ran down her spine.

Releasing her, he backed away.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.
What is wrong with you, Fiona? Did you hit your head?

He drew forth his dirk. “Hold your arms out.”

Confused, Fiona complied. In one swift slice, he cut through her bonds. Rubbing at her wrists, she smiled up at him. “Thank you…again.”

He didn’t respond but turned and walked away.

She quickly followed, keeping her focus more on her footing and not on the man in front of her. They passed several more boats, and then the path narrowed. She halted when the man waved to his crew on a ship alone by the dock.

A Viking ship with a dragon at its bow.

“I’m so not in
my
Ireland.” She watched as he seemed to be giving orders. Then he turned to face her along with all the other men.

Her feet moved hesitantly forward. Where else could she go?

“Great Odin. What is it?” asked one of the men.

Fiona’s mouth gaped open.

MacKay snorted. “She claims her name is Fiona O’Quinlan.”

Now the man’s mouth fell open and quickly snapped shut. “What have they done to her?”

Her captor or savior shrugged. “Cannae say.”

“Look at her hair and clothes,” interjected another man. “Has she been cast out?”

Then a third man jumped down from the boat and circled around her. “’Tis clothing I have never seen. Perchance, she is one of them.”

Fiona backed away from the men. Good God, they were looking at her like some sort of specimen. She backed right into the arms of a fourth man.

“Whoa, little elf, can I be of service?”

She stumbled away from him, but received a huge smile.

“Do not try and use your charms on her. It is Alastair’s slave,” grumbled the first man.

Alastair pointed at Fiona. “She is not my slave, Gunnar.”

Gunnar crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me, why did you buy her then?”

Placing his hands on his hips, he glared at all of them. “I will take her back to the O’Quinlan.”

Fiona flinched.
What was he saying? Who was this other O’Quinlan?

Something snapped inside of her. “Like hell you will.”

All eyes turned toward her.

She was tired of being passed back and forth, and she was going to take control of this god-awful nightmare. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain where I am,” and pointing a finger at Alastair MacKay, added,” and who are
you
?”

The man who’d flirted with her coughed into his fist. “The elf has balls.”

“Silence!” roared Alastair. “Get ready to depart. I will not remain any longer.”

He watched as his men grumbled, some smirking, as they climbed up the ladder into the ship. Turning his gaze back to Fiona, he took several steps, standing directly in front of her.

Fiona willed herself to show no fear as he loomed dark and powerful, and she slowly lifted her head to meet his stare. In all of her life, she had never stood her ground. Until this moment.

“What is this place?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

“Dunnyneill. Trading post,” he replied.

Her mouth parted slightly. “And you? What are you?”

He leaned toward her. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“I am called the Dubh Dragon, but ye can call me Alastair. Now, may we leave?”

No!
Fiona’s mind screamed at her.
He couldn’t be. Could he?
She shook her head in confusion. “Impossible.”

Alastair blinked. Then he threw back his head and laughed. Afterwards, he spread his arms wide. “Och, little bird, I am indeed the
Dubh Dragon
.”

Fiona’s heart pounded hard against her chest. “So you claim to be the Black Dragon. And your name is Alastair.”

He slowly placed his hands on his hips, arching an eyebrow. “Aye. Have ye heard of another?”

“And your last…I mean your surname, it is MacKay?”
Oh God, please don’t say it.

Alastair’s smile vanished. “Aye.”

Goosebumps broke out on Fiona’s body. “Impossible.”

“As ye have stated, but ’tis the truth,” growled Alastair.

Fiona’s voice trembled when she spoke, “If you are Alastair MacKay of the Clan MacKay…”

“
Aye
.” His voice turning deadly.

“Then you are also one of the
Dragon Knights
.
”

Chapter Eleven

“Show no fear,” said the Dragon. “For only those incapable of love will not understand my wisdom.”

Alastair’s fists were clenched by his sides. How did this mere wisp of a woman know his true name? Very few had heard of the Dragon Knights. What made her so special? She was nothing but a slave, possibly cast out by her own people. Or so he thought.

He would get the truth out of her. She was now his. Bought and paid for.

His anger simmered just below the surface, and he allowed his eyes to flash with the fire of the dragon. Hearing her gasp, he smiled.
Good, little bird. Fear me.
Without giving her time to react, he swept her up and dumped her over his left shoulder, and strode to the ship.

He heard her sharp intake of breath, and then she started to pound against his back. “Put…me
down
,” she demanded.

“Nae.”

She started to kick, and he clenched his jaw in frustration. The little bird had talons. He responded with a smack to her bottom, but instead of removing his hand, he kept it against her soft curves. “I will put ye down when we are on my ship.”

She went completely still, and then she screamed.

Alastair dumped her onto the ground. “For the love of Brigid, did ye have to yell into my ear?”

Fiona rubbed at her bottom and then stood. “You beast,” she spat out at him. Jumping onto a nearby boulder, she looked directly into his eyes. “Don’t you
ever
touch me like that again.”

Alastair yanked her to his chest by her arms, his face mere inches from hers. “And what are
ye
going to do?” He watched as her eyes widened in alarm. Blue eyes that reminded him of the sky on warm summer days. Then his gaze traveled down to her lips, red as berries.

Instantly, his beast roared to life.
Claim one kiss, Alastair.

“I will slit your throat,” she whispered.

Releasing his hold, his beast laughed, mocking him. He stared at her for a few moments before turning away. Stalking over to the ship, he climbed up the ladder.

“Let us be gone from this foul place,” he ordered Gunnar.

“But what about the woman?”

“I will let her choose. She can stay or come with us.” He stormed to the other side of the ship, bellowing out more orders.

Fiona glanced over her shoulder from where they came. She snapped her gaze back at the ship and felt the color fading from her face.

The ship lurched—moving away.

“He’s really going to leave me here?” She wiped a hand across her brow. “Better to be with the monster you can attempt to control.”

Waving and shouting at Gunnar, she ran into the water.

Gunnar smiled, meeting her halfway down the rope to help pull her onto the ship. “’Tis good to see you again.”

Fiona took a hold of his outstretched hand. “Your name is Gunnar, right?”

Giving her an even broader smile, he helped her onto the ship. “Aye.”

“Well, thank you, Gunnar. At least some of the men have manners.” She quickly scanned the area and found the beast. “It would seem your leader is lacking in them.”

“’Tis true. Some words of wisdom, Fiona…”

She turned to look at Gunnar. “Yes?”

“Do not anger the man, for he will surely toss you over the side and keep moving on.”

“Don’t you mean beast?” she corrected.

Gunnar’s tone became more somber. “Be it man, monster, or beast, they are all the same. Heed my words. If ye enrage the
beast
, he may not be so forgiving.”

Fiona bit her lip and nodded in understanding. Gunnar led her to a bench in the middle of the ship. Quickly thanking him, she huddled against one of the barrels.

****

Alastair stole a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure she was settled. What possessed him to buy the wee lass? From the moment he saw her on the trading dock, something primal called out to him to take her for his own. This bothered him greatly. He had bought a slave—
one
that tested his resolve. With large breasts and hips, and his beast roared to plunder her body.

As if hearing his thoughts, she half-turned and locked gazes with him.

She blushed and turned away.

And his beast roared with approval.

Sometime later, he glanced at the lass again. She continued to shiver against one of the barrels, and her face seem to grow paler by the hour. He understood her symptoms instantly. Fear of him and the sea. He could tolerate her fear of him, but he would not wish the other on anyone.

The sea held no fear for him. On the contrary, he hated it. There was no controlling the waters. That was his brother Stephen’s gift. What would his brothers think of him now? Traveling the shores and trading, only stepping on land every so often.

They would tease him ruthlessly.

He closed his eyes to block out the memories of a lifetime before. They were gone. In the past. When he walked out of the ring of stones the morning after the fateful battle leaving his sister dead, he left his old self behind.

A Dragon Knight no more.

Hearing a guttural groan, he opened his eyes to witness Fiona heaving the contents of her stomach over the ship as Gunnar stood at her side. Shaking his head, Alastair waved over Ivar.

Ivar took one glance at Fiona and understood his meaning. Retrieving a small pouch from a box, he brought it to Alastair. “She is a brave one to last this long. She will be grateful to know it will not be a long voyage.”

He took the pouch and nodded in agreement. It would appear his men had taken a liking to the little bird. Now Steiner was giving her ale. He covered the smirk on his face with his fist as her face contorted in revulsion, handing the ale skin back to Steiner.

Ale would not have been his first choice either.