Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition Read online

  Her head rolled back on her shoulders as she tried to breathe. Why was this handsome stranger looking at her like that—like she was a meal about to be devoured? And why was she suddenly enjoying his perusal?

  Morrigan swallowed nervously, her hastened breathing coming harder now. She waited in eager anticipation, mind-numbed to everything around her. The man leaned closer. Her eyes swept over his naked, glistening chest—so smooth, so strong, so tanned—before moving unabashedly over his thick arms. A band of gold tightly encircled his biceps—arms that could crush, arms that could touch and caress and take without having to ask permission.

  Then he spoke, his Draig-accented voice soft and deep. It was like crushed velvet to the skin, as he uttered simply, “I am Ualan. Come.”

  Morrigan froze, licking her lips nervously. Her head swam with the effects of the potent berry wine. She never actually thought one of them would try to pick her for marriage. Men had never shown exceptional interest before, especially these types of men.

  Come.

  The word held such command, such finality. His eyes stayed locked on hers. Someone behind her must have carried a torch because she swore a golden light filled the blue of his gaze before fading back to normal. She forgot her newspaper chip assignment, forgot her editor, her self-appointed mission to find a scandal—any scandal.

  Ualan’s hand rose, as if to touch her. She waited, eager to feel him and yet confused by the urge. Her skin pulled in his direction and her nerves tingled with a peculiar current that flowed from his body into hers. The wine swam violently in her veins like a mystical drug. Suddenly, Morrigan wondered if she shouldn’t have tried a more lifelike sex droid. Maybe the results would have been less clinical and she wouldn’t be so incredibly drawn to this man before her.

  Some of the women around her stood and were led off in various directions, their movements drifting and slow. Morrigan felt Nadja get up and glanced over at her. The woman’s eyes were glassy and dazed as she was led down the platform. All of a sudden, Morrigan realized she was the only woman left sitting with a man before her. The un-chosen ones glared at her in angry jealousy. Her heart leapt in panic. She tried to speak, to let one of the others take her place. No sound escaped her throat.

  Why was this man still waiting for her? She wasn’t going to go with him. He should have gotten the hint when she did not immediately obey.

  Just as she was about to suggest he move to another, Ualan’s head tilted to the side in confusion. Placing his palms flat on the table, he leaned closer and glanced down at his glowing crystal before looking into Morrigan’s stunned eyes. He breathed deeply.

  Morrigan leaned back. Did he actually try to smell her?

  “Come,” he whispered, quieter than before. Though the tone was still soft, it was edged with the hard insistence of a command, as if he might forcibly pull her over the table at any moment. His eyes turned to liquid gold. This time it didn’t look like firelight reflection but a genetic anomaly. The gold threads swimming in blue pools were mesmerizing in their beauty. She didn’t want to look away.

  His eyes narrowed, the skin around them tightening as he gave her a stern look through the mask. One of the un-chosen brides giggled. The sound pulled Morrigan from her trance. That was when she realized they were being watched. The music had faded. Married couples had stopped laughing, their faces frowning and serious. The men’s over-bright eyes focused curiously on her in a blend of expectation and incredulity.

  All right, she thought. I’ll play along. Take me to round two.

  Unable to resist, and unwilling to stay the center of all that attention, Morrigan nodded weakly and stood to follow him. The man’s full lips again tugged with a promising, yet hesitant smile. His eyes calmed and his tension rolled into relief. He nodded at her before turning around.

  Ualan led her down the dining platform steps. Vaguely, she heard the laughter return to the gathered Qurilixian. Lively music resumed and couples began to dance around the bonfire pit.

  Ualan didn’t touch her, but Morrigan could feel him pulling her behind him with an invisible thread. There was alien magic in the air, binding her footsteps to his, controlling her brain, telling her to follow him. Yet, she heard music and smelled the wood smoke on the night wind. Her limbs could move where she commanded them, if she commanded them hard enough. The stars glistened, seeming to swim around in her vision, and the moon was so big that it felt as if a searchlight shone on them from above.

  Ualan said nothing as he led her forward over the dirt worn pathways. Her eye strayed along the barbarian man’s backside, hesitating at the gray fur loincloth hiding his ass from view. She swallowed nervously. Her hands lifted toward him, but were stopped by the silken ties.

  Pyramid tents passed by her vision in a variety of colors. As she tried again to touch the fur covering him, Ualan turned to glance at her with a knowing smile on his firm lips that was reflected in his eyes. Morrigan jolted in embarrassment, blushing as she turned her eyes quickly away.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, coming more to her senses as she shook herself free from the spell he cast over her.

  Ualan stopped and turned around in surprise when she spoke. Even under the leather mask, she could tell he was handsome. He again glanced down at his crystal, momentary confusion passing over his hypnotic blue eyes. Moving near a tent, he tilted his head to the side, and said, “Come.”

  Morrigan hesitated and shook her head in denial, not willing to follow his orders like an insipid female. She tried to leave. An unfamiliar sensation tugged inside of her, warring within her limbs. Part of her wanted to obey him, but her logical mind did not let her move forward. This was not part of the plan. This wasn’t part of her assignment.

  Oh, but he was attractive in that accursed loincloth.

  Around the campsite she could see the chosen brides ducking into the various tents with hardly a protest. She heard shouts of merriment drifting about on the breeze from the married couples in their own celebration. The bonfires still burned bright, music still played, encouraging people to dance in celebration. Morrigan had yet to see the musicians.

  The curse of an inquisitive mind overcame her and she had the strangest urge to go exploring. When else would she get such a chance? Beginning to take a step back from the tent, Morrigan said to Ualan in growing distraction, “Go ahead and get started without me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Ualan followed her eyes to the table where the married couples sat enjoying each other’s company. His jaw tensed as she tried to move away from him.

  “Come,” he ordered, his tone growing harsh.

  “Relax, buddy,” Morrigan eased, with no intention of following him back to his quarters for a private party. That scenario ended the same way on every planet. Give the girl some wine, grunt “me Ualan, you pretty, come”, and wouldn’t you know it, you had yourself the makings of a private orgy and a killer hangover.

  No, but thank you just the same, caveman, Morrigan thought with an amused laugh.

  “Look, I’m sure you’re a swell guy and all,” she began, her tone patronizing as she refused to look at him. It was easier to control herself when she didn’t make direct eye contact. She started to move away.

  Morrigan, realizing that she had left her ring on and it was still recording, was about to touch the emerald when she felt a hand on the back of her neck. Closing her eyes at that first warm caress, she nearly collapsed. His callused fingers dug into her long hair beneath the veil, pulling her forward. Her knees weakened. Her face turned and rested against his palm. She was no longer interested in the campsite when she saw his face hovering close to hers.

  It was insanity. He was a stranger. She was in outer space on a primitive planet to do a story. If she was smart she would run away from him. Her legs wouldn’t move. She was stunned by him, captivated.

  All right, so suddenly she wasn’t very smart.

  Ualan held her back from his warrior-toned flesh, but she could feel the warm invitation r
adiating from his nearness. She smelled the exotically bestial scent of him—so primal and raw. She licked her lips. Seeing the response, Ualan smiled, although he still looked baffled by her hesitance. Or was it something else she saw in his eyes? Fear? No, this godlike creature was too much of a warrior to fear her. Morrigan could be sure of that. Self-confidence radiated from his very nature.

  “Come,” he said softly to her, pleading, urging her with that one simple word. Leaning forward, he nuzzled his smooth cheek tenderly to hers. The whispering caress sent her heart a-fluttering. With more authority straining his thick accent, he insisted again, “Come.”

  Morrigan lifted her hands, this time able to touch his waist. She wanted to go with him. Who would ever find out? What could be more perfect? Tomorrow she would be gone and he would stay here. There would be no complications, no heartbreak. Only, would he expect her to marry him? It wasn’t as if he loved her. Surely, he wouldn’t be too disappointed when he discovered she was gone. He could always find someone else at the next festival.

  Ualan’s skin was on fire, blazing with an animalistic heat. His finger rubbed over the pulse at the base of her neck. Morrigan trembled at the stroke. She waited for his kiss—sure she would die if she didn’t feel his mouth on hers. It didn’t come.

  The tall warrior pulled back, looking deeply into her eyes. Then, glancing around the campsite as if determining whether anyone noticed them, he drew her forward, pulling gently at her neck to make her walk. Once her legs moved to follow him inside a blue-gray tent, she could not stop them.

  * * *

  “My king, the brides have all entered the tents.”

  King Llyr looked up from where he nuzzled his wife’s throat. The royal couple shared a loving smile. The queen’s eyes glistened in pleasure with the playful hint of a shift. The night was warm and his wife’s body soft. All of their sons had been blessed this glorious evening with brides, as had at least three of their nephews.

  “Thank you, Mirox,” Queen Mede answered for her husband. The servant bowed and left. When they were alone, if being raised over the celebrating crowds on a platform could be considered alone, she directed her thoughts at her husband so he could hear her words in his mind as she softly spoke them, so they wouldn’t be overheard, “The only thing that would have made this night better, is if all four of our nephews had found brides as well. I hear one of their crystals did not glow. I can’t imagine the disappointment poor Mirek must be feeling. He has tried so hard to find a bride and to continually not be blessed.”

  “We have to trust that the gods have a plan for him,” he answered in the same way.

  “I did not think I would feel so anxious. It will be a long night for the grooms, but an even longer night for us as we wait to see the outcome.”

  King Llyr chuckled and leaned to kiss her. “I think these grooms have it easy. Do you remember our wedding night, my love? You are even more beautiful now than you were then.”

  “So long ago,” she whispered, touching his cheek. “To think I almost didn’t marry you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re saying,” he answered. “You could never resist my charms.”

  The queen laughed. “If that is how my king wishes to remember the past, so be it.”

  “Tomorrow we will extend our family. Our boys are good men, strong and true.” Though the king would never admit it, he too was both nervous and excited for his sons and nephews. This was a big night for them, perhaps one of the biggest they would ever face. For what good was living if a man did not have love and family. King Llyr looked at his wife. Hundreds of years they had been together and his love for her had never wavered. She was his heart. She still took his breath away. “Erase that motherly worry from your face. The borderlands are being patrolled. The Var king would not dare to cross over on this night. The war will not spill over onto our happiness. Not tonight.”

  “But this night is different. Our sons… He—”

  “I am sure they will all be blessed with good fortune and we, my queen,” King Llyr kissed the tip of his wife’s nose, “will be blessed with many grandsons and grandnephews.”

  “I hope you’re right, my love, I hope you’re right,” the queen murmured, content to let her husband pull her fully into his embrace.

  There was nothing they could do but wait until morning and King Llyr fully intended on taking advantage of the night.

  Chapter 4

  Morrigan’s fingers itched to pull the mask from Ualan’s features, to better study his face. With a body like his, his features could have been scarred ugly and the girls would still have come running. He walked backward into the tent, taking her with him lest she try to move away again.

  Leaving her standing alone in the middle of the tent, Ualan went to draw the front flap closed. Morrigan shivered. She wasn’t such a fool as to pretend she didn’t know what he wanted from her, looking at her with his come-hither eyes and touching her with his caressing hand. She had never really gotten this far on a date before, and this had to be the shortest date in recorded history. For all his abrupt words and evident physical strength, he didn’t feel menacing or lecherous.

  The tent was very big with fur rugs laid out to cushion the dirt floor. Torches had been placed near the walls. She eyed the fire to make sure they were safe so close to the blue-gray sides. An immense bed sat in the middle as the unmistakable centerpiece. It was covered in satin and silk. Gauzy runs hung from the top of the tent to surround the furniture in a dreamlike haze.

  Around the edges of the tent, at the three pyramid corners, were three very different arrangements, all blatantly erotic and hard to ignore. In the first corner sat a giant basin full of steaming water, surrounded by silk gauze curtains, and an array of bottles. The tub was large enough to fit both of them easily.

  The second corner held a high back chair, leather binding straps, iron shackles, and an assortment of whips. Morrigan shivered anew. She had to turn away quickly, too embarrassed to be caught showing too much interest in the barbaric set up.

  In the last corner, there was a relatively safe table of food and wine.

  “Choose,” Ualan breathed near her ear.

  Morrigan jumped, not realizing he had come so close to where she stood. Goosebumps tickled her flesh. She blinked, her head whipping around to study his face. The mask hid him from view, but it could not hide the lust in his eyes or the command in his words as he waited for her to act. This warrior reeked of potent sexuality.

  “Ah, yeah…” Morrigan began, biting her lip. Thinking that the last table was the least threatening, she moved toward the food. A tray of chocolates, with nut toppings, was delicately arranged into a pyramid of temptation—probably out of one of those old, recalled food simulator units because true Lithorian chocolate was very expensive. There was fresh fruit, looking like strawberries, but deeper in color and much larger, with a brown cream sauce.

  Morrigan ignored the sweets, grabbing a goblet of wine instead. She drank it in two gulps, sputtering it out in a mighty blast when she felt a hand graze lightly over her bare shoulder.

  Ualan slowly picked up a chocolate and held it out for her to taste. She shook her head in denial. “Food simulator chocolate is known to make humans sick. You shouldn’t serve it.”

  He turned the Lithorian logo toward her to show her it was the real thing.

  “Oh.” Morrigan tried to take the offering with her fingers, but he gracefully eased past her hand and stuck it in her mouth. He watched in puzzlement, as she jerked away from him and shuffled nervously around the table out of his reach.

  “Thanks, I can get it from here,” she mumbled around the large piece. Chewing the delicious morsel, she swallowed it and licked her lips, before wiping her mouth on her hand.

  Ualan tilted his head in question.

  “Listen,” Morrigan said. “I—”

  “Shh.” Ualan shook his head. His eyes closed briefly, and when he again looked at her it was with a perplexed expression. Morrigan thought th
at for a man of many actions, he wasn’t a man of many words. Softly, he said, “Your name.”

  “This isn—” Morrigan began, frustrated when he cut her off.

  “Name,” he stated like an order, turning more serious. His arms crossed over his chest. She wondered if he knew how forbidding the stance made him look.

  “Rigan,” Morrigan answered loudly in reaction to his hard tone, only to correct, “I mean Morrigan Blake. But, you can call me Rigan, everyone does.”

  Should she have said her real name?

  Did it even matter at this point? She wasn’t finding even a hint of a scandal worth writing about.

  Pleased by her response, he nodded in approval and tried to reach for her again. Morrigan continued to ease away from his grasp as he rounded the table for her. He stalked her like a beast, his eyes intent and focused on her every movement.

  “Now, if you please, I’ll be going,” Morrigan said, slowly making her way to the tent flap. She thought about running for the exit, but pictured him easily pouncing to catch her. “Thank you for everything and good luck with that wife finding thing. I hope it goes well for you and I wish the two of you many years of marital blissfulness.”

  Morrigan did her best to smile as she lifted her hand tentatively. The gesture was more one of protection than of departure. He kept his hand out to her, as if he expected her to obey the silent command to go to him. The intensity of his molten gaze reminded her of a wild creature.

  “It would not please me,” he uttered darkly. He dropped his hand and sighed in mounting frustration. Looking down at his crystal that shone brightly against his chest, he appeared bewildered by her rejection. There was a long silence, his stance challenging her to try and escape even as Morrigan knew he would easily overtake her if she were to run.