Page 8

Asha

Duke… Prince? Asha stood, frozen in place as the cold water and harsh soap stung his eyes.

A god of a man, a head taller than any male around him stared at Asha with eyes such a vivid and penetrating blue, like his own, but filled with power he could only define as magic , but their strange shape made Asha pause, blinking in wonder as he wanted to step toward the bars.

Asha couldn’t form words, frozen, his breath stolen until the man tilted his head, chains between his towering horns jangling. A dragon , the first he’d ever seen so close.

Magnificent. Handsome. Asha’s mind spun.

Forbidden.

The dragon’s face went slack and cold as he sharply snapped a man to attend the cell, exchanging a bitter glance before staring at Asha again and storming off, the earl and countess in tow.

“Why is a dragon here?” Asha stood straight and used his dirty shirt to towel his hair and shoulders.

The guard at his cell turned, keeping a careful eye out toward the stairs.

“I don’t wish to pry, but you felt him, right?”

“Gave me the chills. Couldn’t look away.” Asha hugged his arms and watched anxiously.

“Trust me. He felt it too.” The guard stood stiff, shoulders tight.

“But why’s he here? Are they helping?” It was a fool’s thought, but the dragons finally come to aid Monsmount meant the world.

“He’s here for you, Prince Asha. You should know by now the dragons do not intervene.” The man inclined his head a little, dedicated to his gaze.

“Wait! Please. Yesterday I didn’t know she was my mother and now I’m a prince—my station… I’m a bastard… Why? Why does he want me? Does he have a woman for us to form union?” Asha pushed up to the bars, gripping them as he stared pleadingly out. “Sir, please?”

“You know nothing, and it’s not my place to try to tell you. I risk giving you information that would be to your detriment. But there is no woman waiting for you. It is only him.”

Asha rested his forehead against the bars. “What for?”

“You’re his.”

Asha sank down against the bars, head bowed, tears welling in his eyes.

“I won’t turn my gaze, Prince, but I promise you, King Mezerath is a noble dragon.

As honorable as his father.” Baldric glanced over, focusing on Asha.

“And please do not get on your knees before me. The last thing I’d want is for King Mezerath to see his prince so. He’ll answer all your questions soon.”

“I don’t know what promises they’ve given you, but I’m no prince. I’ve never had finery or title.” Asha pulled away from the bars and sought out his hay bed, curling into his depression. Even though fear burned in his stomach, so did a strange new kind of peace, as if all his worries melted away.

***

Soft voices stirred Asha in his bed.

“Does he always sleep this way?” The foreign accent brushed over his ears.

“Like an animal, yes.” Earl Tippin’s voice broke into a shrill yelp as a sharp slap silenced him.

“I assure you, Ashen one, I have a far better nest for you.” The dragon’s voice, Asha realized, nearly purred in his ears as sharp, talon-like fingernails traced his cheek and neck, sending gooseflesh over his skin.

Ashen one? Asha opened his eyes all the way and blinked, watching as the gorgeous man with tall horns studied him with a sense of gleeful wonder. His sharp teeth stretched into a wide grin. “My prince.”

“Will you rise, or would you like me to carry you?” The dragon’s face was almost kind, a light sheen of blue and scales at his temples and brow giving him a more fierce and inhuman appearance.

“I can stand fine on my own.” Asha cast his gaze away and moved, wary of the dragon before him, to a full kneel, bowing his head.

“Do not bow. Stand. The floor is no place for you.” The dragon leaned down and hooked a hand under his arm so gently, lifting with bare effort before taking his hand, his skin deceptively smooth. Deeply tanned in one light and lightly scaled in another.

“As I told your captain, I am unsure as to what the earl and countess have sold me to you as, but I am no prince or duke.” Asha cast his head down and focused on the delicate embroidery over the waistcoat the dragon wore.

The blue of it so dark it almost appeared black, embroidered with fine gold stitching, like flames.

“Are you admiring my coat or trying to appear humble, Asha?”

“Both, Your Highness.” Asha tensed every muscle in his body. With teeth as sharp as his and claws so dagger-like, Asha could very well be dead in the blink of an eye.

“Do not address me as such. You may call me Rath.”

“I’m not familiar with dragons.” Asha kept his tone low and respectful.

“May that change. Look at me. You’ve beautiful eyes. Please don’t deprive me of them.”

Asha glanced up and caught Rath’s eyes, so dark, blue caught in the black of night, every flickering torch a star in their depths. With a shiver, Asha squeezed his hand and gasped, realizing that his hand still rested in the dragon’s warm grasp. “I don’t understand…”

“You will in time. Come, Asha. There’s a home in wait for you, where you will be what you were meant to be.

I have one final gift to give before I leave, though.

” Rath tugged Asha by his hand, leading him from the cell past the masters of the last twenty years of his life.

The earl and countess. They watched him with opposite expressions, one of seething anger and one of regret.

Being tugged along by Rath’s strong hand had Asha hypnotized with confusion. So many emotions twisted in him, his unease with dragons, an attraction that amounted to betrayal burning within him. Lost in thought, he blinked up. Rath’s eyes met his. “I asked if you’d ever ridden a wyvern before.”

“No, but why would a dragon ride a wyvern if he could fly?” Asha bit his tongue and flinched in wait for a strike, but relaxed at a soft chuckle that made Rath’s severe face go bright with mirth.

“Asha. Why would a human ride a horse if they could walk? Blessed, Ashen one. Come. I wish to introduce you to my mount. Heckle.”

Seated in the front lawn among the shorn grasses, tearing up sod, were an entourage of beautiful white wyverns, greater beasts than that of Wyverncrest’s boasting.

“Their scales have rainbows in them.” Asha gasped and caught the eye of one with pale-blue eyes. He canted his head, his pretty white tines for horns glinting. Everything in Asha’s heart had him bounding up to the beast without fear or even a shred of self-preservation. “Beautiful.”

Like the horses in the stables, Asha took the beast’s head against his chest and stroked his jaw, taking in the slightly sour smell of the creature as he situated his weight on his foreleg wings.

“It seems you knew the right one.” Rath’s soft voice caressed Asha, leaving him with a shiver and a traitorous pulse of want into his groin. For a dragon!

A smaller, more meek voice in his mind whispered, A dragon that loves flowers, that craves another man’s touch.

Asha dispelled the thought and stroked the wyvern’s face one last time before Rath tugged his sleeve and gestured to the humans with him. They unloaded three wooden casks.

“And you accepted payment, Earl Tippin?” Rath called out, pulling to his full height, twitching his head in an almost-purposeful way to jangle the chains.

“The payment is accepted. Begone with the boy.” The earl approached, that sour sneer affixed to his face, the one Asha knew all too well.

“And what we spoke about?” Rath gestured to Asha, and the earl seethed. “Kneel. Apologize.”

The earl balled his fists so hard he shook and stared at Asha with his watery, shrewish eyes. “I apologize for whipping you.”

Rath sighed. “I’m afraid that’s as good as you’re going to get.

” The dragon strode forward to approach the countess as Rath’s human companions brought forward the three heavy casks and opened them to reveal the most tarnished and bitterly dull gold, paled in comparison to Rath’s stitching, or the gleam of his horns’ chain.

“Countess Wyverncrest. Please come forth.”

The woman strode forward, head inclined, all the composure and regal air that Earl Tippin lacked. “Your Majesty?”

“Since the earl has accepted payment and I believe you’ve two sons and zero interest in the earl himself…

Would perhaps you accept the remainder of the gold and an offer of escort back to your home kingdom with your endowments?

” Rath grinned a toothy smile, and Asha blinked in surprise as the three heavy, laden chests slammed down before her. She gasped.

“Escort home?” She stared at the gold. “With my own… I’d forfeit my title…”

“I could send my seal with you. It may preserve something, since the earl has besmirched you.” Rath kept a calm and cool demeanor, and something boiled with satisfaction in Asha’s heart at the outrage that twisted the earl’s face.

“Now see here! That is my wife! What’s hers is mine and she will not leave in your company nor will she—” Rath held a silencing hand aloft.

“She is Asha’s bearer and thus, the reward is hers to take.

You accepted your tribute. As you’ve repeatedly violated the sanctity of your vows to one another—” Rath gestured toward the servants watching with wide eyes.

“And failed to provide her with even the barest that a countess should deserve—” Rath gestured at the estate.

“That with her having borne you an heir and a spare, her duties were fulfilled, and she can ask right of divorce. She fulfilled her bargain, and you failed yours.”

Countess Wyverncrest…Asha’s mother, glanced back at him for a lingering, cool moment before staring at Rath and nodding once. “I would like to go back to my homeland. Thank you.”

“Mother?” Leza called out from nearby and stared at her impassive face.

She turned to face him and sneered. “My duty to you is done. You and Bel were terrible sons.” Turning back, Rath nodded his head once and flicked his hand in gesture to have the screeching earl restrained and the countess readied to fly out with two of his retinue.