Dragon Lords 4-Warrior Prince (8 page)

Zoran froze. She was serious. His jaw tightened, as he inquired, "On what grounds?"

"On the grounds that you forced me to marry you," she said, a smile coming to her face. She swiped at her nose, regaining some of her composure as she sniffed. "I did my research before coming here. You can’t force a bride to choose you. It has to be her free will. It wasn’t my free will. I told you no and you forced me to take off your mask. When I told you to put it back on, you burned it."

His face turned red. He said nothing.

"And then, this morning," she lied. "I was going to go tell the council that I didn’t choose you, but then you kidnapped me ... "

His brow rose dangerously on his forehead.

"Fine, you apprehended me, tied me up, and forced me to stomp on the crystal. I would say I have a pretty strong case and plenty of witnesses. I want to speak to the royal council--now!"

A bitter look lined Zoran’s lips as he took a menacing step toward her. "Did you happen to research, wife, that the royal council is particularly busy this time of year with important matters of this kingdom? Did you also happen to discover that marriage disputes can only be claimed after a full year of marriage has been achieved and whereas the bride can prove that nothing of a sexual nature happened between the married couple for that full year? Furthermore, a decision usually takes another year to be reached, considering the royal council will not always agree and the dissolution of a marriage is a very serious matter to us. So I would say, you have at least two years as my wife, and that’s only if I don’t contest the divorce. And I’ll contest. Believe me, wife, you’re stuck whether you like it or not."

"I don’t care if it takes five years. I’m not staying married to you."

"I felt how you melted in my arms, Pia," Zoran murmured in a tone that sent chills over her spine. He came closer. His brown eyes held her. His knuckles stroking her face. "Do you think you could resist me every night for five years and never succumb?"

Pia shivered. To her shame, she didn’t move away from him. Already a fire blazed from his touch and she knew she couldn’t--not if he looked at her like that. She’d relent in less than a week.

"I’ll get my own place. I’ll find a job and support myself. I won’t even see you."

"What job?" Zoran asked with an amused grin. Inside he boiled.

"I’ll join your military," Pia announced, pleased with herself until she saw his look. He stayed his hand on her cheek, not moving and yet not leaving her soft skin. "Soldiers usually get free room and board."

Zoran grinned like a fool. If she joined the military, she would be under his command, even more so than now. He didn’t let her in on the joke, as he said, "Women are rarely allowed to fight in the military--especially wives. Only widows can join."

Her eyes rounded, as if to say, that could be arranged.

"Don’t even think it," he said, his hand fisting next to her cheek. "I would snap your neck in an instant if you so much as tried."

Pia backed down, finally managing to get the strength to pull away from his disarmingly gentle fingers. She scowled. "Then I’ll pray to every one of your Gods for your death in battle."

Zoran sprang forward with a rage that took Pia completely off guard. His eyes glowed with a fire all their own, as he gripped her shoulders. His nails dug into her flesh and she wheezed in fear despite herself.

"If you ever say anything like that again, wife, I’ll punish you. So help me, I might get transferred to guard duty in the lowest of underground prisons where I’ll never again see the light of day, but I’ll not put up with your blasphemous manner." Zoran shook her before tossing her away from him. With an angry growl, he strode out of the bedroom. Slamming the thin door, he said, "I’m going to work."

Pia shivered watching him leave. It didn’t take long before she heard the up and down slide of a door. Her knees weakened in fear. She’d seen the devil in that handsome gaze of his and, so help her, she liked it.

* * * *

Zoran’s home was a splendid exercise in simplicity. The bedroom Pia woke up in was off the front hall. The doors separating the one level of rooms were paper thin and had no locks on them. They slid soundlessly with a single push of the finger.

The walls were wooden planks of straight lines. A floor of matching wood was placed together in an intricate pattern of long cut strips. In the center of which, in the front hall, was fashioned the impression a giant dragon. The dragon sat before a heavy oak door that Pia couldn’t get to open.

From the front hall, a single step down was the only room divider. She came to an open living room with a marble fireplace. There were straight lines carved into the plain surface and another dragon head in the center top. A step back up took her to a dining room, complete with low table and cushioned floor seats. A bowl with a single ball inside it decorated the middle as a centerpiece.

A tapestry hung on the far wall, just behind the table. It was red with the depiction of a black forest. If she had to venture a guess, she would say it was the forest she’d seen at the festival. In the middle was a noble phoenix.

"I’m surprised it’s not another dragon," she mused wryly, moving on.

The kitchen was much of the same--plain and of wood. The cabinets were miniature copies of the doors, sliding to the side instead of swinging open. Pia laughed seeing a dragon inlaid on the countertop.

As she crossed back into the dining room she noticed that a chandelier hung beneath a giant dome. The crystal shards reflected the light, brightening the room. A thick curtain was affixed to the dome.

Finding another door, Pia slid it open. It was a bathroom with a natural hot spring bubbling in the side, made of the red stone of the planet’s surface. A wooden sauna was next to it, a pull switch for steam on the side. On the opposite wall was a shower stall, with a wooden half door and bench seats made of red stone. There was also a vanity, a sink, a toilet, sliding cabinet drawers, and a top dome of smaller proportions.

Next to the bathroom, Pia was amazed to discover an exercise area. It was a long, flat floor with a higher ceiling. Weapons hung on the wall for ease of use. Arranged on the floor was a punching bag, a wooden pegged contraption with many arms fashioned into spikes, a post with gashes taken from it with a sword, and a mat rolled into the corner. Pia shivered in excitement.

"This room alone would be worth staying married for," she mumbled to herself. Almost reluctantly, she turned around and forced her legs to move away. She still had the dress on and couldn’t possibly work out in the heavy skirt.

Getting an idea, she went back to the bedroom and began rummaging through the closet. She smiled, seeing her bags on the floor. She wouldn’t have to steal Zoran’s clothes after all. In no time she was in a pair of comfortable charcoal pants, a navy T-shirt and light boots. Going to the fireplace, she tossed the dress on top of the wood and left it. She would’ve started a fire, but she couldn’t figure out how to make it work.

Dusting her hands, she nodded in satisfaction. Her stomach growled reminding her she was hungry.

"First I eat," she said absently to herself, making her way back to the kitchen. A great big smile came to her face as she thought of aggravating Zoran. "Then I find scissors and do something about this mess of hair."

* * * *

Zoran spent the first day of his marriage training the soldiers in swamp warfare. It was a grueling affair as the swamp mud was hard to walk in without shifting into Draig form. Many of the men were stupefied by the surprise workout. Though Prince Zoran was known for springing a training drill at any hour of the day or night, they hadn’t expected him to show up the first day of his marriage.

Many of them had celebrated late the night before, believing that this day of all days would be safe to sleep in. They couldn’t have been more wrong. Zoran worked them to the bone, pushing them, yelling them into action until their bodies could take no more and they literally crawled their way back to the barracks that evening.

Zoran smiled grimly at the irritable men. His crossed arms were splattered with muck, though not as bad as the soldiers were. "I warned you when you began this training to be prepared for anything."

The men grumbled as they stopped in their departure to look at him. There was respect in their tired eyes. They knew Prince Zoran was the greatest warrior amongst them and, after today, his dedication would never be questioned.

"As a warrior, you can never be caught off guard. You can never slack in your duty. If you do," Zoran stopped and pointed down the valley where the quiet village lay. Lowering his voice to a deadly growl of warning, he let his eyes shift yellow. "If you do, they die."

The men nodded in serious understanding.

"Now go eat," he hollered, uncrossing his arms and jumping down from his post. "You did yourselves proud today."

With his gruff praise, their exhausted shoulders rode a little higher. Zoran made his way wearily back to the castle’s front gate. The guard saluted him as he passed and Zoran motioned dutifully back.

His body was covered in drying sweat. He’d worked himself the hardest of all. Every muscle in his back ached. But it had been worth it, if for only a brief moment of peace. Pia never strayed far from his thoughts, though as a trained warrior, he didn’t let her distract him from his obligations to the men he commanded.

Now that the drills were over, he frowned. The closer he stepped to his home, the more his anger renewed itself inside him. Oh, but she was an aggravating wench! One minute he wanted to kiss her in rough mind-altering passion, the next he wanted to strangle every last breath from her beautifully formed body. He wanted to tie her up and throw her into Crystal Lake. Hell, he wanted to tie her up and throw her onto his bed.

That thought in mind, he quickened his pace. The oak door to his home slid up with a stern voice command. Stepping inside, he felt it shut automatically behind him. Stopping, he sniffed the air, looking around. All was deadly still. He took a step forward.

"Pia?" he called softly, listening for her to stir. There was no answer. He stepped forward, frowning to see the gown he’d bought her in the barren fireplace.

"Uh," he heard her voice groan. "Got it."

He frowned. She was in the bathroom. Stepping up to the door, he took a single finger and pushed it open. His eyes rounded in a mix of horror and utter disbelief. He had to blink several times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

Pia jumped at the sound of the door. Lowering her hands from her hair, she pointed the knife at him and darkly asked, "You ever hear of knocking?"

"What are you doing to your hair?" Zoran demanded, unable to take his eyes away. Half of Pia’s locks were still firmly attached to her head. The other half was sprinkled over the sink and floor in long discarded curls.

Pia turned back to the stranger in the mirror and smiled. If she hadn’t been sure about her new haircut before, she was now. She grinned happily, lifting the knife to her longer side.

Willfully, and to his dismay, she grabbed a heavy chunk and sliced through it, cutting it off at about chin length. Then, lifting her handful of severed tresses, she wiggled the mass insolently through her fingers, sprinkling them before him like falling leaves.

"Do you mind?" she asked. "I was in here first and I could use a little privacy. If I mess this up, I’ll have to cut it shorter to get it even."

"Why?" he breathed through his shock. Her hair had been the crowning glory to her wonderful features. Any woman in the kingdom would’ve given their freedom for her golden locks and here she was hacking them off. "Why do you disobey me? I told you not to cut it."

Pia just laughed and continued to slice and saw at her hair.

"Why would you purposefully disfigure yourself?" Zoran asked despairingly. "Do you seek to humiliate me?"

That made Pia mad. She lowered her hands to the countertop. "Humiliate you? My hair has nothing to do with you."

"Everything you do has something to do with me. I’m your husband. Our honors are inner-linked. Only women who are shamed cut their hair," Zoran said darkly. He swallowed, again looking at the floor in disbelief. All that spun gold lay around their feet. He had the strange urge to gather it up and glue it back to her head.

Pia shrugged. Her little, naughty, naughty gremlin nodded its head in approval, urging her on. "Well, I would say it’s very fitting then."

Pia lifted her hand and defiantly took off the last chunk with a heavy whack of his knife, which she’d taken off the wall in the exercise room. Zoran flinched. Pia made a show of examining the evenness of the new length and continued speaking, unhampered by his darkening features.

"For I find I’m very shamed to be married to you. Maybe you should divorce me before I humiliate you any further." Pia gripped the last of her hair and tossed it at him. "But if you want it so badly, here. I give it to you."

"Argh," Zoran growled hotly, brushing the soft strands from his arms. He turned to storm away, before suddenly whirling around to face her. Angrily, his face worked and he held out his hand. "My knife, wife."

Pia glanced down at her fingers. Then, slowly, as if it was no big deal and he was overreacting, she turned the hilt and placed it in his hand. Zoran’s fingers gripped around the blade and he jerked it back from her.

Pia followed him as he stormed out of the bathroom. "Don’t you think you are overreacting just a little bit? Really, Zoran. It’s just hair. It grows back."

Zoran again saw his gift to her in the fireplace. He swallowed, too angry to face her.

"Zoran?" Pia asked, seeing his rigid back and the hard profile of his turned face. Still amazed, and unsure how it happened, she thought of how handsome her husband was. He looked at her dress. Instantly, she wished she hadn’t of tossed it aside like that. She almost went to retrieve it when his words stopped her.

"If you wish to insult me and throw my gifts back at me, wife," Zoran growled under his breath. He was chillingly calm as anger radiated from every one of his pours. "Do it right."