Dragon's Blood (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy #2)

“We don’t have months,” Drystan snapped. “The elves have mutilated my brother and threatened further harm to him—we are marching on them now. Give me something to use against them, or so help me, I will tie you to a spit and let one of my sisters slow-roast you to death.”

“The bracelets!” the warlock whined, his voice cracking. “The secret is the bracelets.”

Catriona sucked in a sharp breath. “What do you mean?”

“We crafted special brass bracelets that force dragons to shift back to human form and prevent them from breathing fire,” Mathias croaked. “That is how Arolas was able to turn the tide so quickly against you.”

“Is there a way to combat the effects?” Drystan demanded.

“As I said, warding amulets,” Mathias panted. “But again, it would take me months to craft enough for all of you.”

“That’s insane,” Taldren snapped. “Lucyan has a warding amulet—he’s using it right now. If he was able to get his hands on one, that means they are for sale.”

Mathias laughed harshly. “Indeed, in Shadowhaven. Good luck making it to any of the market stalls there, or getting them to take a large order. It is foolish to attack the elves now. We have armed them against you. The plan was to get the two of you to weaken each other, and it has gone splendidly so far. Once the elves finish you all off, Shadowhaven can move in and annihilate what is left of Elvenhame’s army. Both of your peoples will be ground into the dust, and we shall reclaim our homeland and return it to its former glory.” His eyes shone with a fanatical light. “Terragaard will thrive once it is free from the influence of elves and dragons.”

Drystan clenched his hand into a fist. He wanted to grind Mathias’s face into the dust, or at least give him a few good punches. Neither of them were even close to what his mother’s murderer deserved, but…

“Leave him, Drystan,” Catriona said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “This scum isn’t worth bloodying your knuckles over. Besides, we will need his testimony for the council.”

Drystan exhaled. “You are right,” he said, gathering his composure. He stalked out of the cell and ordered the guards to lock it up behind him. “Let us call a meeting now. It is time to drag those useless bastards’ heads from the sand and make them confront the real enemy.”





32





Dareena woke the next morning to bright light streaming in from the cave entrance and two hard, warm male bodies pressed up against her. Smiling, she ran a hand down Alistair’s muscular arm, marveling at the way it had perfectly healed. There was no scar, not even the faintest trace of a line to indicate that Arolas had severed it. Her dragon prince was good as new again.

Alistair made a pleased sound in his throat, emboldening Dareena. She slid her hand down a little farther, over his hip, to grip his hardening cock. Gently, she stroked him, savoring the feel of his hot, velvety skin sliding against the palm of her hand. His member flexed in her fist, and as Alistair moaned, Lucyan moved in closer, his lips trailing along the back of Dareena’s neck.

“I must say, this is a nice way to wake up,” he said, nudging his cock between her legs. Dareena gasped as he entered her from behind, her back arching, and she instinctively tightened her grip around Alistair’s cock. The three of them moaned in unison, and Dareena quickened her strokes as Lucyan moved inside her.

The three of them made love, then washed off in the hot springs, where they made love again. Dareena’s cheeks ached from smiling so much, and yet, there was an ache deep in her heart for Drystan. Their merry band wasn’t complete without him. He was back at Dragon’s Keep, probably worried sick about them all, dealing with the crushing burden of running the kingdom without any of them to help.

Alistair and Lucyan mirrored Dareena’s sentiments—they did not linger after finishing their bath, but shifted back into dragons while Dareena donned her maid uniform. She climbed on Alistair’s back this time, and the three of them took to the skies, determined to get home and reunite with their family.



Alistair could still hardly believe he was flying. The wind whipped past him, clouds brushed the tips of his wings, and below, the landscape rushed by, far faster than he could ever travel on foot or even horseback. He’d thought it would take him longer to get used to flying, but he’d taken to it like a duck to water, executing flips and turns mid-air, loving the way his muscles sang as they propelled him through the sky.

He also loved the feel of his mate sitting between his shoulder blades, her curvy body pressed against his hide. Her sweet scent wafted around him, warming his blood, filling his heart with contentment. No longer was he a useless wretch stuck in bed while she took on the burden of caring for him. He was a fearsome, fire-breathing dragon, capable of protecting what was his.

And he was whole again.

Lucyan and Alistair carefully stuck to the clouds. Even though they were back in their homeland, spies were everywhere. There was no need to tip off their enemies that all three of them could shift, and lose the element of surprise. But as Alistair scanned the landscape through the cloud cover, he noticed something odd.

Lucyan, he said slowly, using mind speech to get his brother’s attention. Do you see those men down there?

Lucyan turned his head to where Alistair was looking. A nobleman, traveling with mercenaries. All heavily armed. What are they doing with all those mules?

Alistair dropped lower to get a better look. Five mules all carrying empty sacks. My guess is that he’s here to collect something, he said warily.

“Is…is that Count Kianor?” Dareena asked. Alistair twisted his head to see her looking over his shoulder, her green eyes wide. “I was told he was on his way back to Shadowhaven!”

Count Kianor? Lucyan asked.

He was a warlock envoy at Elvenhame’s court, Alistair explained. I don’t see how he has any legitimate business in our realm. That a warlock was moving freely through Dragonfell was not a good sign. They must have used magic to sneak past the border guards.

Lucyan growled. Let’s follow him and find out what it is he’s after.

The two of them stuck close, staying out of sight while making sure not to lose track of the warlocks. As expected, the party did not head for Paxhall, but instead headed north. The count seemed to be following directions—he had some shiny device in his hand, perhaps a sort of magical compass, and glanced at it frequently.

I believe we’re headed for the Black Mountains, Alistair finally said. The mountain range loomed close, only an hour away by horseback. Either the mountains were their destination, or something that lay beyond. But what?

Isn’t that where Drystan said Father went off to? Lucyan asked.