Dragon Wife (21 page)

Late afternoon light shone through the windows, stretching long across the floor. It was a common time for Orwenna to help with the cooking. Just as she spent a bit of each morning working in her garden. Huroth had taken her to Barish, several weeks ago, so she could purchase seeds, and the young plants were doing well.

“Do you very much mind me frying fish?” Orwenna asked Tirza. “Abeah complained that it makes the place stink.”

The old she-dragon chuckled.

“Pay no attention to Abeah,” she said. “I don’t mind the fish frying, just so long as you don’t make me eat any.”

“You really don’t like it?”

“I despise the stuff. But that’s no reason you can’t have your fill.”

“It’s strange,” Orwenna mused. “I never used to like fish, but now I crave it. Especially a little burnt around the edges. Do you suppose it’s because I’ve gotten so good at catching them?”

Tirza looked speculatively at Orwenna.

“When was your last blood flow?” she asked.

Orwenna tried to remember. There had been so much going on lately, she hadn’t noticed. How long ago was it? A month? Two?

“As I thought,” Tirza said, coming over and placing a hand on Orwenna’s abdomen. She closed her eyes and tilted her head, as if listening for something.

“You’re carrying a new spark of life, my dear.”

“How can you tell?” Orwenna asked, hoping it was true. Huroth would be over the moon about it, and she was quite excited by the idea, herself.

“I’ve a knack for it,” Tirza explained. “Sometimes I can even predict the gender, though yours is a bit soon to tell.”

“If I’m pregnant now, that means I’d have the baby…”

“Early next spring. What a way to start the growing season, eh?” Tirza gave her a hug. “I couldn’t be more pleased. That’s exactly what this clan needs, more little ones running about.”

“You’re absolutely positive? I don’t want to get Huroth’s hopes up, if there’s any question.”

“I’ve never been wrong about this sort of thing. You can tell him the good news, without worry.”

Orwenna clapped her hands together, rocking on the balls of her feet. The reality of what Tirza said was sinking in. She was going to be a mother. In a matter of months she would bring a child into the world, a half-dragon, born of her and Huroth’s love. Praise Oatha!

Epilogue

Five years later…

Huroth and Orwenna sat on the balcony of their quarters. Around them the mountain sides blazed with autumn color, the vine maples alone offering every hue from pale yellow to crimson.

On Huroth’s knee, bounced Hendrik, pretending he was winning a horse race against the Sultan of Sharlem, a character from his favorite bedtime story. Off to the side, his little sister, Reia, toddled, chasing after a stray leaf which skittered in the breeze.

Both children had their father’s piercing blue eyes, and their mother’s honey-colored hair. Neither one had any idea just how unique they were. In their world, dragons were commonplace, and magic was as natural as breathing.

“I’m off to Whiterock,” Harith called, poking his head in at the door. He was a grown adult now, as powerfully built and handsome as his father. Hendrik jumped down from Huroth’s knee and ran to his big brother.

“How long will you be gone?” the boy asked.

“Too long, as far as I’m concerned.”

Harith swung the boy up, tossing him in the air and then catching him again. Hendrik whooped with delight.

“Is Ayelet finally going to force you into a fitting with the royal tailor?” Orwenna asked. “The wedding isn’t far off.”

“I suppose, I’ll have to surrender.” Harith shrugged, setting Hendrik down. “Now that Ayelet is ready to marry me, she’s got a list three yards long, of all the details that have to be worked out. I don’t see why we can’t just exchange vows at Dragon’s Perch, the way you did.”

“You’d best humor her,” Huroth advised. “Once she comes to Dragonvale there will be many adjustments for her. Let the princess have her grand wedding first.”

“Fair enough,” Harith agreed, with typical good humor. “See you all in a few days.”

He gave a parting wave and closed the door.

“Let’s watch for him,” Hendrik said to Reia, taking her dimpled hand and leading her to the far side of the balcony.

They didn’t have long to wait. In a matter of minutes, Harith came flying past, his black and bronze scales burnished in the sunlight. He raised a wing and gave a barrel roll, by way of a farewell salute. Reia laughed and pointed, while Hendrik spread his arms wide and pretended to soar like his brother.

“I hope Harith and Ayelet can find as much happiness as we have,” Orwenna said, her eyes following the young dragon as he flew out of the valley.

“That’s a lot to wish for,” Huroth said. “We’ve been incredibly lucky.”

“Yes we have.” She looked over at him and smiled.

You will want to read the next book

in the Dragon Clan Series,
DRAGON WARRIOR
.

Here’s a sneak preview:

Prologue

Nyssa snarled, struggling against the strong hands restraining her. This was insanity. Why couldn’t the rest of them see it? Their leader was a murdering tyrant, not a hero, and not the descendant of a god, no matter what he claimed.

“Easy now,” Asgrim warned, his breath hot on her cheek. “We don’t want you bloodied, right before Aurek takes you. He’s always fancied your pretty face.”

“Bugger off.” She tried to swivel around and knee him in the groin, but he held her too tight. If only she wasn’t wearing the cursed trolkin collar, she could shift to drake form. Then they’d have a proper fight on their hands.

“You should be pleased,” Thorlak said, close on her other side. “Aurek is the…”

Nyssa didn’t give him a chance to finish but stomped down on the top of his boot. He swore, twisting her arm painfully behind her. She threw her weight sideways, hoping to tip him off balance, while bringing her right foot up and kicking his knee.

Asgrim yanked her backwards, slapping his beefy hand over her nose and mouth, cutting off her air. She thrashed violently, wishing for a knife or even a sharp rock, anything to use against these bastards.

“Enough,” Darga said, stepping in front of them. Her pale eyes flared, her gaunt face taking on the appearance of a mask, tight and rigid.

Nyssa felt her limbs grow heavy, falling slack, no longer under her control. The icy rush of Darga’s magic flowed through her body, leaving her helpless. She was a puppet, left to hang on her mistress’s strings. There was nothing more she could do.

“That’s better,” the dragon sorceress said, giving Nyssa a cold smile. “I can’t see why you’re throwing this childish fit. Aurek is all a she-dragon could desire. He is divine, and he is your lord. Welcome him.”

Nyssa despised Darga. The sorceress might control her physically, but she couldn’t command thoughts and feelings. Aurek would never be welcome. Never!

With her resistance thwarted, Nyssa was left to contemplate the scene. Her brother, Gird, lay bleeding to death, circled by the rest of the dragons. Some of them were in eldrin form, while others remained as winged drakes.

No one made a sound or moved to help him, not even Gird’s and Nyssa’s mother. She stood away from the rest, her face as colorless and bleak as the frozen tundra which surrounded them. Her eyes were like stones, hardened against a life of loss.

Nyssa ached with rage and grief mingled. Gird had tried to protect her, bless his foolish heart. He never stood a chance. Brokk’s sword had sliced through his gut, before he finished drawing his own weapon. There was no mercy to be found in the world and no sense in her brother’s death. Couldn’t they have simply bound him, putting him out of harm’s way until her mating with Aurek was over? Why this needless death?

But of course, it wasn’t needless. Not from Aurek’s perspective. He required unquestioning loyalty of his clan. If any young males challenged him, they were quickly dispensed with. Why worry if the she-dragons now outnumbered the males? That meant more mates for Aurek to enjoy.

It was a perversion of the true Aurek’s legacy…he who had been the first and best of all dragons. That their leader went by the same name, claiming the great one’s blood flowed in his veins, was heresy. And the fact the other dragons followed him, sheer lunacy.

Nyssa offered up a silent prayer for her dying brother’s soul.
May Oatha guide him in his final flight, to the lands beyond, to the halls of our grandfathers.

She wished she could do more, but Darga’s magic was strong. Her own fate was sealed, as surely as her brother’s. He would perish this day, and she would become the unwilling mate of a monster.

“Bring her here,” Aurek commanded, his voice carrying through the stillness. Nyssa cringed inside. All her life she’d lived in fear, hating the way he looked at her, even when she was a child. She’d been spared till her moon-flow started, only because her mother was Darga’s pupil, a favored member of the clan. Even that was not enough to protect her now.

Asgrim and Thorlak hauled her forward, bringing her to stand directly in front of their leader—a massive male, powerful despite his many years. His blonde hair had faded to a yellowish grey, but it still hung thick and long, falling over his fur-cloaked shoulders. His face was wide, with coarse features and eyes steely as daggers.

“I’ve waited a long time for you,” he said, looking Nyssa over top to toe. “Until now, I couldn’t decide whether we should join on the ground, in eldrin flesh, or as drakes in the sky, scale to scale. Your rebellious attitude has chosen for me.”

Nyssa wanted to stop up her ears, to silence his words, but he kept talking.

“Mating in flight will have to wait, my little sweetmeat. This time, I’ll need your back pressed to hard rock, or you might wriggle away from me.” He gave a braying laugh. “It may be over quicker than you’d like, but we’ll have many more chances. This first one is just to break you in.”

He reached for her, and as he did, a great sheet of blue lightning flared across the sky. It came from the south, charged with magic beyond imagining. The power of it crackled over the clan, stinging their skin and scales.

The air roared and shrieked with magical power, wilder than any storm. It swirled around them, conjuring prisons of ice. Each dragon stood frozen, unmoving as a statue, unconscious as the dead. Aurek’s hand remained extended, his fingers only a few inches from Nyssa’s wrist.

And so they remained, as the long centuries crept by.

A word about the author...

Since her childhood, growing up in New Zealand, Diana has been an avid storyteller. For years she enjoyed teaching art and special education, while continuing to write as a hobby.

After she developed chronic fatigue syndrome, a career change was necessary, but happily this led her to become a professional author.

Her favorite genres are fantasy, science fiction, historical, and romance. She currently writes for The Wild Rose Press, Inc. and others.

Visit her website at

http://www.dianagreenbooks.com

Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.