Dragons Don't Love (5 page)

He doesn’t speak further, though his
laughter sounds in my head until he’s in the tower. A short while
later, my patience at an end, he tells me she is ensconced in the
room. “You are invited to cards at my place two weeks hence. Be
sure to bring your bride. My son is quite taken with
her.”

A grunt is my only reply. I can take
it no longer. Dressed again in another pair of jeans, I charge to
the tower. A few feet from the door, I grow nervous. What should I
do? Earlier, I would have just thrown it open. Now I’m at a loss. I
pull my fingers through my slightly tangled hair. This is stupid.
She left me and must be punished. My hand goes to the door, but
before I can touch it, she throws it open.

A blade jabs into my neck and I’m
absolutely speechless.

“
Stop right there.” She
gasps and then looks me up and down before her gaze returns to
mine. “It is you. Don’t think your muscled chest and pretty face
will make me soften to your touch. I demand respect.” She stomps
her foot against the floor with her last words.

I’d laugh if I wasn’t in so much
shock. The point of the sword digs deeper. This can go one of two
ways. I can knock it from her hand and have her over my knee for
the spanking she deserves or I can… try Maleah’s way. It doesn’t
need to turn into love, though companionship would be nice. “Let us
sit down and discuss the options open to you.”

Surprise is written plainly on her
face. She slowly lowers the blade and steps back. “You may enter,”
she says as she makes a sweeping gesture with her hand. “This
conversation would be simpler if you put on a shirt,” she mumbles
under her breath.

That makes me smile. I look toward the
sitting table so she doesn’t see it. I pull out a small chair. I
had no plans to spend any time in this room, so I did not have the
appropriate furniture delivered by my servants. The chair groans
beneath my weight. She hears it too and looks dubiously toward the
wooden legs.

She expertly slides her blade into a
hidden sheath behind her neck. I hadn’t noticed because her untamed
dark hair swirls around her head. I wonder how the strands feel,
and my fingers rub together in expectation.

She sits very prim and proper with her
back perfectly straight. Just as I’m ready to say what’s on my
mind, she speaks. “Acasia cautioned me to keep my guard up against
you. She says you sometimes have a nasty disposition. I warn you
that mine is the same.” She barely takes a breath before
continuing. “I have trained my entire life to kill you. A sad story
told by a female dragon does not change that fact.”

I’ve lowered my eyes to her heaving
breasts and lift them when she stops speaking. Her eyes are a
spectacular shade of light brown, almost golden. Her angular face
enhances her high cheekbones. She’s actually not as beautiful as
some of my past brides, but there’s something about her… something
that sets her apart.

“
If you look at my breasts
again, I will go back on my word and sever your head from your
neck.”

It’s all I can take. Today has been
hell. I throw back my head and laugh. Smoke actually floats from my
nostrils because I find her hilarious. My crazy bride.

Her palms go flat on the table and I
think she might attack me at any moment. “Are you quite finished?”
she demands.

She’s glorious in her anger and it
only makes me laugh harder. She’s a pint-sized human nothing with a
sharp blade and a sharper attitude. She jumps from the chair and
draws her sword. She doesn’t have time to blink before I’ve removed
it. Flipping it over, I test its weight on my palm.

I look up as her chair crashes down on
my head. Splintered wood flies across the room and a thin trail of
blood mars her cheek. I ignore her attempt at bodily harm by chair.
I’ve maintained my hold on the blade, flip it end over end, and
catch it by the handle. “You are unlikely to kill me with this. I
will have my manservant take you to the chamber of weapons so you
may choose something finer with perfect balance.” My hand strikes
downward and I bury the blade three inches into the wooden table.
I’m satisfied when her hand goes to her throat. “I would suggest
you take care of the cut on your face. My brides usually live a
long life. Although… there was one about a thousand years ago who
tripped and fell from the tower. I don’t recall her
name.”

Every name of every bride is imprinted
on my soul but I will not tell her this. “Now run along and clean
your face. When you return, we shall discuss fucking. It’s actually
the only reason I’m here.”

Chapter Eleven

Roxanne

I’m standing in front of the mirror,
washing my face, and fuming. He actually said fucking! I don’t care
that his blue eyes are incredible. Or give me a mallet and I can
play a tune on the muscles of his belly. The girth of his biceps is
larger than my waist. And his face is more than pleasing. I may
need to kill him just because he is too good and it’s hard to tear
my eyes away from him.

Fucking, really?!

I broke a chair over his head and I’m
the one with the wound. It’s because there is nothing inside his
skull but rocks. No, that’s an insult to rocks. Worms, that’s
better. They’ve eaten through the brains he might have been born
with and passed them through their system as compost. Mushy…
smelly… compost.

I’m beyond furious. My virginity is a
very sore subject. If we are the dragon’s chosen bride and it’s
discovered we are not a virgin, the lives of our entire family are
forfeited. Along with the lives of the man who took a bride’s
virginity and his family too. No village male so much as ever
looked at me. I’m twenty-one. Younger girls born outside the
claiming years are already married and pregnant with their first
child or second child. Not me.

No one in the village even knows if
the bride lives through the first night. The chosen bride is never
heard from again. I could have died today. Died as a virgin. And
the stupid blue dragon wants to discuss fucking.

I will take him up on his offer of a
better weapon. I need something to cleave his head in two. Right
between the eyes. Maybe he’ll bleed blue. I can handle rolling in
blue blood. I look at the bare walls and think about using blue
blood to paint them.

I suddenly jump when he pounds against
the door. “I’m hungry, bride. My manservant is delivering dinner.
You best hurry or I shall eat it all.”

My stomach growls at the mention of
food. I ate sometime yesterday and barely managed to keep it down.
I planned to die today, so food was of no consequence. I throw open
the door and march out. A tall man, dressed in some type of formal
clothing, is placing a tray on the table. I no longer have a chair
and from the looks of it, the dragon has no intention of being a
gentleman. He scoops most of the food onto his plate before the
other man turns to leave. I try to catch the servant’s eye with no
success. He proceeds to cover the bed with new, singe-free bedding.
When he’s done, he leaves without a word. Acasia told me there are
other humans in the castle. We didn’t have time for her to explain
where they come from. She said something about another
realm.

There are only a few scraps of food
left for me. I quickly slide them onto the empty plate on my side
of the table. The dragon scoots his chair out from the table and
pats his knee with one hand. “Sit here since you destroyed your
chair.”

I look at his knee, turn my back, and
walk over to the bed. When I start to sit down, I catch the grin on
his face and the spark in his eyes. I don’t sit. I’ll just stand.
Using my fingers, I pick up a strip of meat and place it between my
lips. It’s mouthwatering and I sway at the incredible taste. I eat
a little faster than normal because of my hunger. My food is gone
quickly. I look at the dragon’s plate, which is still piled with
food.

A slight grin plays around his full
lips. “I’ll share if you have a seat right here.” He pats his knee
again.

I turn my back.

“
Have it your way. You need
to be quicker to the table from now on. I want you to keep your
strength up.”

I look over my shoulder. “Have no
fear. I will be ready when we next eat. With added strength, it
will be easier to end your worthless life.”

His brows arch and he slowly draws his
fingers to his lips and licks them clean. He lifts a long strip of
meat from his plate and brings it toward the sharp side of my blade
which is still embedded in the table. It cleanly cuts the meat. He
looks at both pieces then gazes at me. “At least you know how to
properly sharpen a blade.” He pops both pieces of meat into his
mouth.

I refuse to give him the satisfaction
of stomping my foot. I really need another chair, or maybe a
sledgehammer to hit him over the head with. I refuse to watch him
finish his meal. I remain hungry, but there is no way I will sit on
his lap. That is not where I want to be while we discuss…
fucking.

I don’t hear him approach and suddenly
he grips me at the top of both arms. I jump and my first instinct
is to pull away. His breath runs over my skin and his hands are no
longer tight. They slide upward. On my left side, he moves my hair
from my neck. I hate my hair. It’s constantly in the way. I have it
down only because of the claiming and now I have nothing to tie it
back with. The dragon’s warm breath hits the bare skin of my throat
and my knees go weak.

What the hell is wrong with
me?

He breathes deep. I never showered.
I’m pretty sure I don’t stink even though he said I did. His tongue
flicks out and runs across my skin. A tight ball forms low in my
belly. My eyes close and his body heat soaks into the entire
backside of me. His mouth remains at my throat while his hands skim
down my sides until his fingers clasp my hips. He pulls me sharply
against him.

Something hard hits my bottom. In my
dreamy state it takes a moment to realize what it is. Not that I’ve
ever seen or felt one. I’ve only heard it spoken of when people
weren’t paying attention that I was there. The dragon’s whisper
against my skin sends chills clear to my toes. “I think we should
forgo the conversation and just get to the fucking.”

What?

Oh no. Hell no. I jerk away and turn
while bringing my fist up and striking him directly in the nose. I
shake my hand to dispel the shooting tingles of nerves while he
brings his hand up and cups his hurt appendage.

“
Why in the hell did you do
that?” he asks stuffily.

There’s blood. Red blood. I watch as
he lifts his hand away from his nose and stares at the evidence of
my assault.

“
Your blood isn’t blue,” I
say in consternation.

It surprises me when he laughs. He
walks to the table and uses a cloth from his meal to clean himself.
His gaze remains steady on mine the entire time. He hasn’t said a
word for a few minutes and I’m suddenly beyond nervous. He picks up
the remaining chair and I close my eyes expecting it to land on my
head. I hear the legs of the chair settle against the floor and
dare to peek. I watch him sit down on the mattress.

“
Come here and sit in the
chair.”

It’s a command. Everything in me
rebels at the dictate but what choice do I truly have? I drag my
feet closer. He tips his head to the chair when I take too long. I
sit.

His voice is soft, entirely too soft,
and it makes his words more ominous. “You should not have struck
me.”

“
I’m sorry?” I squeak. I
really expected instant retaliation and his delayed response has my
nerves completely unraveling. He should just have hit me over the
head with the chair. I’ve struck him twice now and he’s yet to
punish me… or kill me. Acasia told me the dragons never kill their
brides. Chances are good that I might be the first to rewrite the
dragon history books.

His voice remains low. “Why did you
hit me?”

At this point, I truly can’t remember
why. “Because you were there?” Again it’s more of a question and
not the answer he seeks.

His eyes drill into mine. “A bride has
never hit me before.” Now I hear bewilderment in his tone. Just
what does he expect?

My entire life has been dedicated to
one goal. I lift my shoulders and straighten my spine. My courage
returns like the moons each night. He will do his worst. I cannot
stop him. He won’t kill me and I feel heavy disappointment knowing
I most likely won’t kill him either. “Do you insist on talking
about umm… fucking with all your brides?”

He appears startled at my question.
“Nooo.” He drags out the word. “I usually just get on with it. I
thought discussing it would make it easier for you.”

I’m stunned that his skull is so dense
he doesn’t seem to understand the problem. “And your brides react
to your fucking them with calm control and just accept
it?”

He actually squirms a bit and his face
goes red. His large hand comes up and his fingers thread through
the hair that’s fallen across his cheek. “They cry. Well… actually,
they wail and carry on. It’s quite irritating,” he says in
exasperation.

I need to move closer to the wall so I
can hit my head against it. He’s half-witted. But he’s also unsure.
I can hear it in his intonation. Acasia said male dragons are
nothing more than spoiled little boys who want their way in all
things. Even fucking. “So it doesn’t please you when they react
that way?”