Dragon Wife (15 page)

The library was large, with massive windows along the western, ocean-facing wall. Bookshelves lined the other walls, and a clutter of exotic objects littered the tables and floor. Wen stood on the far side of the room, wearing a simple rose-colored dress. Her hands were clasped tightly, her body and face tense. She smelled of stress.

“Hello Huroth,” she said, no sign of warmth or welcome in her tone.

Huroth had expected her to rush into his arms, as she did in the medic tent, after the battle. This coolness was something else entirely. His own glad greeting died on his lips.

“Won’t you sit down,” Wen said formally, still not making a move toward him. She gestured to a velvet settee.

“I think I’ll stand.” What was going on with Wen?

“I know why you’re here,” she said. “So I won’t waste time. My answer is no. I can’t be your wife.” She held herself unnaturally still, as if under rigid control. Her words cut him, dagger sharp.

“I don’t understand.” He took a step forward. “You seemed to like me well enough. What happened? Why are you acting like I’m a stranger?”

“Because you are. Or at least, the next best thing.”

“I’m not!” Huroth couldn’t keep the outrage from his voice. “How can you say that, after our time together…after everything we shared?”

Wen’s careful composure began to crack. She ran hands nervously down the front of her skirt, spots of color rising on her cheeks.

“I might ask you a similar question, Huroth. How could you go to the king and buy me like a brood mare, without even asking what I wanted? I thought better of you.”

He was speechless. It never occurred to him that his actions would be seen in such a negative light. What he’d done was appropriate and traditional. Why was she making it sound awful?

“And then you just vanished,” Wen continued, her voice trembling. “Didn’t I deserve a farewell?”

“I had to leave suddenly,” Huroth told her. “Surely the soldier delivered my message?”

“No.”

“The drunken fool!” Huroth cursed. At least he could set this straight. “I’m sorry. Dragonvale was under attack from trolkin. I couldn’t stay. I wanted to speak with you myself, to offer my proposal, but there was no way. Not then. I imagine King Elric butchered the job.”

Wen took his explanation in.

“Is your clan safe?” Her face showed genuine concern.

“For now,” Huroth answered brusquely. He was impatient to deal with the issue at hand. “You still haven’t explained your refusal. Why won’t you be my mate?”

Wen lowered her gaze, turning away from him.

“You do recognize I have a choice? You won’t try to force me?” She spoke so quietly, he could barely hear her. Nonetheless, her question burned him like acid.

“Of course I won’t force you!” He scowled, his hands balling into fists. “What do you take me for?”

“I don’t know. I want to believe the best of you, but…what do I base that on? You’re willing to force Ayelet to marry your son.”

“Because I’m confident she’ll grow to care for him.”

“What if she doesn’t? Can you honestly…”

“I’m not here to discuss Ayelet,” Huroth interrupted. “I want to know what you feel. Are you saying you could never love me?”

“No. I can’t say that, but you’re asking me to leave everything familiar, the only life I’ve ever known, and put my faith solely in you. It’s too much.”

“You still don’t trust me.” The statement tasted bitter in his mouth.

“How can I? We barely know each other, and you’re a dragon. I have no idea what goes on inside your head or heart.”

“It’s not that mysterious, Wen.”

She flinched at his use of the endearment.

“Let me finish,” she insisted. “Since I came home, I’ve had time to think all this through. When we were together, I was caught up in the excitement. I couldn’t see clearly.” She took a deep breath before continuing.

“Your clan needs mates, and you are determined to find useful ones. There’s magic in me which you value, especially if I pass it on to my children. That’s reason enough to covet my hand in marriage, but it’s not a reason for me to comply. I won’t gamble my future for the benefit of your bloodline.”

“You believe I’d callously use you?” Huroth demanded, his voice rough. “That I see you as nothing but breeding stock?”

“I…it seems possible.”

Huroth felt betrayed. He’d been willing to open his heart and rile up his clan, all for a woman who dismissed him as a selfish brute. It hurt, badly.

“Apparently, I was mistaken. There can be no union between us.” He spoke coldly, barely restraining his emotions. “Goodbye Orwenna.” He strode into the hallway, slamming the library door behind him.

Once outside the house, Huroth shifted to drake form and took to the air, flying north at a furious pace. But no matter how fast he flew, he couldn’t outrun the pain of Wen’s rejection.

Chapter Thirteen

Orwenna ran into the yard, watching as Huroth streaked north, growing smaller and smaller until she could no longer see him. Her heart felt wrung out and dry as dust.

“So, you turned him down?” Tyna asked, coming up beside her. “I didn’t think you’d manage it, once he was here.”

“I had to.” Orwenna rubbed her eyes, wishing she could cry and be done with it. “I can’t settle for a one-sided marriage.”

“You’re sure he doesn’t love you? He looked mad enough to eat rocks, when he left.”

“I’m not sure of anything,” Orwenna sighed. “He treated me well and seemed like he was fond of me. But, that’s not enough reason to leave Mirra Muir and all of you, to go live with a bunch of dragons. At least with Rollin, I wouldn’t have lost my home.”

“And that’s the most important thing?”

“It matters. That, and knowing I’m loved for the woman I am, in here.” She brought a hand to her chest. “Not just for the purpose I’ll serve.”

“It’s a rare husband who truly knows his wife and loves her for it,” Tyna said sagely. “You might be waiting a long time.”

“Then I’ll just have to manage on my own. Whose side are you on, anyway? I thought you wanted me to refuse Huroth.”

“I want you to be happy,” Tyna said, reaching out and patting her cheek. “I hadn’t figured on what a blue ribbon prize he is. When he smiles, even an old girl like me can feel her pulse quicken. It’s no wonder you lost your head over him.”

“You aren’t helping. I’ve been around and around about this already. Saying no was the decision I came to, and I’m sticking with it. Besides, it’s too late to change my mind. He’s gone.”

“I have a feeling he’ll be back.”

“You’re wrong. I offended him, and Huroth’s not the type to take that easily. He’s too proud to force me into marriage, and he’s certainly too proud to make the offer twice.”

“We’ll see.”

Orwenna shook her head. A few minutes with Huroth, and Tyna was his advocate. Really! It was astonishing, the effect he had on women.

That was part of the problem. He was such a magnificent specimen. Countless females must have swooned at his attentions, over the years. Why should he pick Orwenna, if not for the healing power and magic she carried? It was a transparently practical choice.

“I just need to be alone right now,” she said, too drained to discuss things further. “I think I’ll walk down to the beach.”

“Take a shawl, if you mean to be gone long. Looks like it might cloud over. And eat something first. We can’t have you wasting away.”

Orwenna smiled wanly. Some things never changed.

****

Tyna was right. Clouds did move in, blocking the sun’s warmth and casting a grey pall over the day. Orwenna didn’t mind. The stormy sky suited her mood, as did the mournful cries of the gulls.

She wandered aimlessly along the pebbled shore, emptying herself of feelings, as best she could. The wind tugged at her loosely knotted hair, flattening her skirt against her legs and making her glad she’d brought a thick shawl. She let the briny scent of the sea and the rhythmic rush of the waves fill her, washing misery away.

But melancholy remained. No matter how logical her refusal of Huroth might be, it still left her empty and yearning. She was like a plant drawn to the brilliance of his light. Without him, she withered.

Orwenna shook herself, trying to banish such thoughts. It was nonsense. She’d been perfectly fine before Huroth flew into her life, and she’d be perfectly fine now that he’d flown out of it. She didn’t need him.

Her mind refused to cooperate, bringing up memory after memory of their time together. The images were dreamlike and dazzling, holding the power of a siren’s song.

She remembered the feel of his long, strong body. His voice was still in her head, rich and delicious as chocolate. His wolfish grin, his flashing eyes…would she ever be free of them? Did she even want to be? If memories were all she had left, wasn’t it better to hold them near, turning them in her fingers like precious stones?

With the wind blowing and the breakers crashing against the beach, she didn’t hear Huroth’s dragon wings. She stood, staring over the slate-colored waves, oblivious, till he was directly behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Orwenna turned, startled. Huroth caught both her wrists and held them, as if he thought she might flee. She shivered with the surprise and thrill of it, captive to his feral gaze, as much as the firm grip of his hands. He waited only a moment, before leaning down to kiss her.

They came together with potent desire, their lips drinking each other in as though they were parched. Huroth’s hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her close, while his other hand sought the soft rise of her breasts. His mouth was on hers, consuming, worshipping, awakening all her senses.

His fingers played across her nipples, till they hardened like beads under the thin fabric of her dress. She gasped as aching heat flared through the center of her. Everything else vanished, the past and future, all gone. There was only this, now.

He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, down to the hollow at the base of her throat. She tasted the warm salty skin of his neck, feeling the vibration of his deeply rumbled pleasure. It was an intoxicating sound, halfway between a purr and a growl.

Huroth’s arms enclosed Orwenna as he lifted her effortlessly, crushing her to him. His arousal was unmistakable, a stiff ridge pressed along her thighs. She arched her hips against him, evoking a moan of raw need.

She fumbled with the fastenings on his clothing, wanting to feel the texture of his skin under her hands, to explore the muscled contours of his body. He answered in kind, holding her with one arm around her waist, while he worked at opening the front of her dress. The bodice gave way, and he claimed the fullness of her breasts with his mouth.

Orwenna was ready, open to the thunder and lightning of his passion, matching it pulse for pulse with her own. But just as suddenly as he’d begun, Huroth withdrew. He stepped away, his face revealing an intense struggle for self-control.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice husky. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Why did you stop?” Orwenna asked, her breath ragged, her body longing for him.

He gave her a swift, surprised look.

“Because that’s not what I came back for…to take you like a rutting beast on the beach. That’s how you’d expect a dragon to behave. And then what would you think of me?”

“I think I would have enjoyed it,” she answered honestly.

Huroth gave a short laugh, and shook his head.

“Don’t tempt me Wen. I’m barely holding back as it is.” He ran fingers through his thick ebony hair, glancing sideways at her. “You’d best cover up, for both our sakes.”

Orwenna looked down at her open bodice, the flushed roundness of her breasts invitingly exposed. Her hair had come free from its knot, tumbling over her shoulders in honey-colored waves. She made a provocative sight.

“You managed to pop a few of my buttons off,” she observed, fastening the ones still attached to her dress. Wouldn’t Cousin Lutia lay an egg if she saw her now. Orwenna couldn’t help chuckling at the thought.

“I’m glad you can laugh about it,” Huroth said, sounding relieved.

“Did you really suppose I’d be angry?”

“The last time we spoke, you didn’t want me,” Huroth reminded her. “Surely ravishing you wouldn’t help the situation.”

“I never said I didn’t want you,” she corrected. “I said I wouldn’t be your wife. And you can’t ravish someone who’s more than willing.”

“You did seem to like it.” His lips twitched into a half smile. “But, I’ve heard human women are less aggressive than she-dragons. I thought I might be getting carried away, just now, and the last thing I want to do is frighten you.”

“That’s chivalrous.” She recognized the act of will required to reign himself in.

“I am trying,” he told her plainly. “But this is new territory.”

“For you and me both.”

Orwenna picked up her shawl from where she’d dropped it, during their embrace. She pulled it modestly around her shoulders, grateful for the extra layer. Now that she was cooling down, her head was clearing, and she saw things more starkly.

As lustful as Huroth might make her, their basic issues were unchanged. Her reasons for denying his proposal were as valid as ever, though she was curious to know what brought him back to Mirra Muir.

“If you didn’t come to seduce me,” she said, “why are you here?”

Huroth fell silent. He scanned the shoreline and distant rocky headland, as if they might hold some kind of answer.

“I couldn’t accept the way things ended,” he explained. “It was all wrong, both of us talking past each other and neither one seeing the truth. I won’t lose you like that, not without a hard fight.”

“May I ask who you’ll be fighting?”

“To start with, I’m battling my own bruised pride,” Huroth admitted. “That isn’t easy, but when I think of what I’ll miss, if I let you slip away…things just fall into place.”

“What things? How?” She was eager to know if this could be fixed.

“Whether or not you believe me, Wen, I care for you, very much. It’s not just about your magic, and it’s not all for the sake of the clan. Hell, some of them are mad as hornets, because I’ve chosen you. I practically had a rebellion on my hands when I told them.”