Page 19 of Dragon Lord

W hen Einin woke in the back of the cave in the morning, Draknart was still sleeping the sleep of the dead next to her.

She didn’t wake him, couldn’t face him just yet, after what they’d done in the night.

She stumbled her way to the cavern’s opening and peeked outside.

The sun shone brightly down on the clearing. No sign of the gods. Safe.

Trees had fallen, bushes had been ripped up by their roots, leaves lay scattered everywhere, torn from their branches.

Einin picked her way through the debris and headed to the lake.

The cool water might soothe the soreness between her legs.

Even her nipples ached. Heat spread across her cheeks at the memory that she’d been the one to torture them—at least some of the time.

She’d considered herself a woman for some time. She’d lived alone in the village. She’d cut her own wood. She’d snared her own game in the woods to fill her pot. She’d gone to the dragon. And she’d come back. She was no twittering maiden, even if she’d still been in possession of her maidenhead.

Yet, this morning, she felt more of a woman than she had been before.

What Draknart had done to her… What she had done to Draknart…

Their fierce mating awakened a part of her that she hadn’t met before.

She liked that part. She liked being a woman who could pin a man like Draknart to the rocks by his shoulders and take from him what she needed.

She walked into the water and smiled at the thought. She liked who she was—a survivor. She had survived being tossed to a dragon a fortnight ago, and had survived being witness to the clash of the gods.

When the water reached to her chest, she stopped and washed herself. Then she dropped to her knees and dunked her head under, holding her breath.

She and Draknart… Draknart and she… What did he… No. What did she want to do next?

She ran out of air, searching for the answer. With a great gasp, she broke the surface.

Draknart was tearing down the narrow beach as if he was rushing into battle.

“Einin!” he roared. Then he spotted her, and he faltered before he resumed his mad dash.

When he reached her, he flattened her against his wide chest and held her there, his strong arms like iron bars around her body. A very dragonly groan escaped him. “Einin.”

She lay her cheek against his warm skin and inhaled his scent of faint smoke and sex and more—her own scent still lingered on him. Red nail marks crisscrossed his chest. Hers. As were the teeth marks on his shoulders. Einin was fairly certain she also had his teeth marks on her skin.

She regretted nothing.

From the way he was holding her, it didn’t seem as if he was regretting the night either.

His voice rumbled above her. “I woke alone.”

“I needed a quick bath.”

His great chest expanded, moving under her cheek as he drew a deep breath, then let it out again. “I thought you left.”

She could feel his manhood between them, hot and hard, but he made no move to seduce her. She, too, held still, resting against his heat that had the power to warm her even in the cold lake.

He eased back, opening his mouth to say something, but his lips snapped shut as his gaze darkened, dipping from mark to mark that he’d left on her skin. Then he abruptly turned from her and strode into deeper water, dove under.

Einin waited for him to swim back to her, but when it became apparent that he would keep going, she waded out of the water. She went back to the cave to see if any of her clothes were salvageable. Draknart might be happy to walk around naked, but Einin very much felt the wind.

Unfortunately, her garments… She stared at the strips of fabric with chagrin. They were unsuitable for anything save to be used as bandages. She swore like the goatherd her father had been. She would have given much for just one softly worked goat skin.

Maybe Draknart could catch a few more rabbits. Their pelts would have to do. No time to cure them, but any cover was better than nothing.

Until then… Einin picked up the widest strip of fabric at hand, a leg of her brother’s britches, and tied it around her waist. The second widest strip went around her breasts. The she picked up a few more and fashioned herself a sword belt. The blade by her side made her feel better.

“Einin, sweeting.” Draknart stood in the mouth of the cave, his muscular frame outlined by the light behind him.

Oh.

Realization slashed through Einin like lightning across a stormy sky.

Her mind had been so crowded with memories of the previous night, she’d been too dazed to notice that… but now… Her blood rushed. Oh! She lurched forward. “Draknart!”

“I’m sorry about last night,” he said, his tone gruff. “I beg your forgiveness.”

“Draknart, you’re—”

“I did not mean what happened, not the way it happened.”

“Draknart—”

“Might we start anew?”

“Draknart!” She reached him and slapped his wide chest. “You’re a man!”

He froze.

He looked at his feet. Then he put his hand on his stomach. His dark eyes turned bleak. “Aye.”

“Why?”

He rolled his shoulders, as if hoping to roll the human skin off. Odd sounds emanated from his chest. His lips tightened, as if he was holding back a roar. He shook his head. “We need food,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll hunt.”

He strode into the woods and disappeared before Einin could call him back.

If the goddess turned him into a man all the way…

The dragon would hate that more than anything in the world.

Einin’s blood chilled.

Would Draknart blame her for her part in the mess that meeting the god and the goddess had been? He might just leave her at Fern Lake and fly away. He no longer needs me. The stark truth left Einin staring at the spot where he’d disappeared into the woods.

Draknart didn’t need her for anything anymore, at all.

At first, he’d only wanted her for a quick swiving, then a quick meal.

Then he’d decided to bring her to Belinus as a gift, but Belinus had not taken her.

The god had not turned Draknart back into full dragon.

And Draknart had swived her, a number of times, during the night. He was finished with her now.

Einin’s heart twisted painfully.

A fine fool she was. She muttered a few choice curses after him. Draknart had brought her to the faerie circle to give her to Belinus. But he didn’t. She should hate him. But she didn’t.

He had risked the wrath of the gods for her. And she wasn’t blameless either. She had tried, more than once, to kill him.

Can we not start anew? he’d asked earlier, in the water. But what did he mean? Did he mean they should part ways and pretend they had never met?

There went Einin’s heart twisting again.

She was in love with Draknart, had fallen for him like an empty-headed maiden. But Draknart didn’t love her back.

I thought you left, he’d said when he found her in the lake. Had he hoped that she’d leave?

Yet after he’d said that, he had drawn her into his arms. Maybe he had meant it as good-bye. His body had been aroused, but that seemed to be a permanent condition for him, and he’d made no effort to seduce her. He’d gone for a swim instead. And now he’d left her again.

Their passionate night in the cave had been overwhelming for Einin yet made her feel alive and awakened. Draknart, however, probably found her woefully inexperienced and inadequate.

But he said I was his! her brain screamed.

He meant for the night, doubt whispered.

What did she want to do?

She could not stay at the lake, near the faerie circle. She would not survive another encounter with the gods. Lingering at the entrance of their realm would be beyond foolish.

She could not return to her village. She would not survive that either. The image of the men, led by the priest, entering her hut with torches at dawn, was burned on her brain.

She thought of the young knight Draknart had flicked into the water. There was a village on the other side of Fern Lake. She could seek shelter there. But how would she explain appearing out of nowhere, alone and practically naked?

The knight had seen her with a dragon. If she appeared, unharmed… What if this village too branded her as a witch?

“What’s wrong?” Draknart strode from the woods with three dead rabbits dangling from his hand. He also brought an armful of dry branches. He looked around, checking for danger, then tossed the game on the ground.

“Just eager to be away from the gate.” While Draknart built a fire, Einin drew her sword and began skinning the rabbits, careful with their pelt.

And once the fire was roaring, while they waited for the high flames to die down so the meat wouldn’t be scorched but evenly cooked, she scraped the inside of the pelts with her sword, then rubbed them clean with sand.

Draknart put the carcasses on a spit, the two of them working in silence.

From time to time, Einin caught him looking at her meager coverings.

She couldn’t see how he could find fault with them, since he had even less—nothing, in fact.

She avoided looking at him as much as possible, especially that part of him.

Even thinking about their night together made the ache between her legs reawaken.

She didn’t understand how it was possible that the ache could feel pleasant.

After they ate, they drank from the lake. Einin rinsed the skins, then combined them with what clothes she had left to provide a little better covering for herself.

Draknart shook his head. “We’d best head back. If you wish to come with me.” He held her gaze. “We’ll have to walk. I’m not certain how long the journey will take.”

Very unlike him to not even try to order her around. The lost look on his face, so unlike him, twisted Einin’s heart. She stood. “We’d better leave before the gods return.”

She could swear his entire body went slack with relief, but he said nothing.