Dragons Among Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice) (9 page)

“Sometimes,” he admitted with a smirk. No other peasant in his kingdom had ever spoken to him so boldly. In fact, such a manner could easily land a person in Edana’s deep, dark dungeon. But Zayne found Addie’s curiosity and unending questions to be a breath of fresh air amid his stale, scripted life.

“Not me.” She crossed her arms as she shifted her gaze to the passing landscape. The horses had slowed to a walk again on the increasingly uneven terrain. “Though, that may be because I don’t stay in one place long enough to allow rumors to start.”

“And what say your parents about that?”

“We weren’t talking about my parents, we were talking about yours.” Color crept across her neck. “So? What are they like?”

“Hmm. How best to describe my parents… Well, my mother is an angel. My father, the bloody devil himself.”

“Ouch,” said Addie with a grimace. “That must be tough.”

“It could be worse. I could have been born to a pair of poor peasants.”

“I’d take a poor, loving family over a throne any day.” She paused, then tipped her chin in his direction once more. “Can I ask you something?”

“’Twould be a surprise if you did not,” he said with a laugh.

“Who is Rosalind?”

The question was as unexpected as it was unwanted, and Zayne felt the smile slip quickly from his lips. “Princess Rosalind is the daughter of King Jarin. Why do you ask?”

Addie’s shoulder lifted and fell. “I remember Emeline saying something about her when you two were checking on me last night.”

“When you were pretending to be asleep.” He frowned.

“Yeah.” She shifted in her seat. “So, are you two…close?”

“Not particularly.”

Before he was asked for further details, the men leading their caravan slowed to a stop at the crest of a small hill up ahead. Zayne pulled back on his steed’s reins as they drew beside the others. Several hundred yards ahead lay Forath’s grand iron gate, the lone break in a massive stone wall stretching from north to south as far as the eye could see. Beyond the wall stood a dense forest, its foliage a curtain of varied greens. A thick, perpetual fog masked any view of the vast foothills and rocky terrain standing between the wall and Forath’s castle.

Addie leaned away from the view and pressed uncomfortably into Zayne’s still-healing wound. He didn’t complain, for it was a far less painful experience than what he was about to endure.

Korey turned in his saddle. “Shall I announce our arrival, sire?”

“Announce our arrival?” Addie whispered.

“’Tis customary to sound the horn before approaching Forath’s gate,” said Zayne. “If they grant us permission to approach, their guard will sound the horn back.”

He looked to Korey, one of his youngest but most trusted warriors. The boy was hardly a day over seventeen, but his body was massive and the beast within him strong. In every skirmish, every battle, Korey had fought valiantly and without hesitation. Never did he question the prince’s orders. As such, he’d be one of the three to continue into Forath and escort Addie back to the village near where she was found.

Zayne felt the knife of loss prick at his heart as he gave Korey a solemn nod. “Sound the horn.”

The young warrior steered his steed toward a nearby oak and retrieved the instrument, hanging from a nail embedded in the tree’s thick trunk. Korey raised it to his lips, drew in a deep breath, and issued a loud, clear blast. Zayne closed his eyes and prayed to the heavens no blast would be sent back, that the guards wouldn’t allow them to approach, that Addie would have no choice but to remain in his care. But his prayers went unheard—a long, clear tone soon answered theirs.

It was Sol, Brom’s younger brother, who swung down from his horse and came to stand beside them now. “Shall I help you down, my lady?”

“Help down? Oh. Right.” She looked from Sol to Zayne. “Who will I be riding with the rest of the way?”

“Brom. He, Sol, and Korey will ensure you make it to your destination safely, my lady.”

“So, this is it?” Addie’s crystalline eyes met his. “This is where we part ways?”

Zayne swallowed hard and held her gaze. “Aye.”

She looked down and shook her head. “God, I suck at good-byes.” She breathed a small laugh and placed a soft hand upon Zayne’s chest. “Thank you, for all you’ve done. I shall never forget you, Prince Zayne Godfrey of Edana.”

He lifted her chin and waited for her gaze to meet his once again before answering, “And I shall never in all my days forget you, sweet Adelaide.”

Her eyes began to glisten. Stubborn even now, she fought to hide her suffering behind a smirk on her lips. Without forethought, Zayne bent to claim those very lips with his own, to taste of them before she was gone from his life forever. She stilled, clearly surprised by his action, but to his great relief, she didn’t pull away. Her eyelids slid shut, and his did the same, allowing his other senses to take control. She tasted of sugar and honey, and the feeling of her cool, smooth lips pressed against his ignited a fire within his heart he hadn’t known existed. One not fueled by lust or desire alone, but something more. So much more.

Without breaking the kiss, he cupped her face in his hands and brushed his thumbs across her silky smooth skin. She shivered beneath his touch, and Zayne deepened the kiss, wanting nothing more in this world than to devour her this very—

Brom cleared his throat. “Sire, Forath awaits.”

At his words, Addie’s eyes opened and grew wide with surprise. She blinked several times as though waking from a spell and drew back, pulling free from his hands as her cheeks flushed a beautiful scarlet. Zayne wished for the first time in his life he’d been born a wizard, not a dragon, for this was an enchantment he’d have never allowed to be broken. The prince shot Brom a look of reproach.

“I really should be going,” Addie whispered. “Before I get you into any more trouble.”

Zayne nodded, the agony of her departure rendering him silent. Drawing on the last of his willpower, he helped her down into Sol’s awaiting arms. She flinched at the broad man’s touch, then offered him an embarrassed apology for doing so.

“No need to apologize, my lady. Unlike my brother, I neither bark nor bite.” He held his arm out to escort her and gave her a wink. “Much.”

She offered him a tentative grin, and jealousy flared inside Zayne once more. But it was a jealousy he had no right to possess nor reason to keep. In a few moments, the woman would be lost to him forever. Though, truly, she hadn’t been his from the start.

Sol led her to Brom’s large, ebony steed and hoisted her into his brother’s grasp. Addie’s beautiful cheeks flushed a deeper scarlet as Brom wrapped a battle-scarred arm around her waist to secure her. He waited for Sol to mount his horse, then cast Zayne a questioning look. Zayne studied Addie for a long moment, trying to memorize her every feature before she was gone forever, then gave Brom a reluctant nod. The men set off across the clearing, Korey and Sol in the lead with Brom and Addie following.

Zayne watched in silence as the distance between his horse and theirs steadily grew, knowing this moment would forever be etched into his mind. In but a day, Adelaide had touched his very soul, awakened passions long left dormant, and yet he here he sat, helpless to do anything now but watch her go. His father demanded it, their rivals expected it, and two kingdoms desperately needed this act of good faith. She was in the safest of hands, as the instructions to his most trusted men had been clear: protect her at all cost. Never would they disobey him. Still, even beyond the torture ravaged upon his heart, a nagging anxiety perplexed him.

“Shall we continue on then, sire?” asked Rowan, one of Zayne’s remaining men as Brom’s small band reached the center of the clearing.

“Not until they have crossed safely beyond the gates.”

A sound met his ears then, one familiar to Zayne and so yet unexpected that he was sure he’d imagined it: the launch of an arrow from a tightly wound bow. His trained gaze zeroed in on an object slicing through the still afternoon air. The weapon—an arrow, indeed—lodged itself into the ground beside Brom’s galloping steed. Shouts erupted from the small band as Korey angled his steed to shield Brom and Addie. As he did, a second arrow found the young warrior’s chest and a third his horse, which stumbled and fell with a guttural scream.

Brom and Sol turned their steeds in retreat, Sol now acting as shield to Addie and Brom, as a stream of arrows rose from atop Forath’s walls. Zayne watched in horror as the reality of the situation set in. They’d been ambushed.

“No!” The air around him came alive, whipping and swirling in a manner more fierce and immediate than ever before.

“Sire, you mustn’t!” shouted Rowan.

Zayne knew his warrior’s words to be true. Changing into dragon form now would add insult to injury and suggest that he cared more for this girl than for his betrothed, for his father’s demands, for peace. But those were concerns of human logic. They mattered little to the fiery beast sharing his soul, which ripped and clawed its way out. As his body stretched and fire filled his lungs, Zayne’s dragon mind held but one thought:

Protect Addie.

Chapter Ten

Princess Rosalind drew near her family’s dining chamber and was greeted by the sounds of a heated debate between her father and brother, Tristan. She slowed her step, curious as to the topic and all too aware that the moment she stepped into view, they’d likely fall silent. Such discussions were not appropriate in the company of a lady. Though when the name of her betrothed wafted out into the hall, she wondered if this time might well be different.

“Impudent boy. I never should have let either him or his father draw the engagement out this long,” her father said.

“But if truth lies in the scroll, Father, Prince Zayne is a hero.”

“Bah,” the king said. “’Tis a lie to cover up his deplorable behavior, nothing more. You are far too trusting, my son.”

“Perhaps. And his pledge to marry Rosalind in a fortnight? Do you believe that to be a lie as well?” Tristan asked, his voice light.

Rosalind’s breathing hitched. Had she heard her brother correctly? Had the date for their wedding finally been set?

“No,” said her father. “That was a strategic move I plan to enforce. If the wedding does not happen by his specified time, there will be no wedding. I am through with negotiations.”

“And the girl?”

“I shall make an example of her. No peasant whore will tarnish the image of our family, or what shall soon become of it.”

“But Father.” The lightness was now gone from Tristan’s voice. “She may be innocent! What message would that send to our people, then?”

“If we silence her first, our people will never be the wiser.”

“Father, please. I implore you, take pity on the girl.”

Rosalind’s hands curled into fists. A woodland harlot had run off with Prince Zayne, and her own brother was defending the girl? Did he care nothing for his sister’s feelings?

“’Tis but one life, Tristan. A small price to pay to deter future uprisings.”

“I shall not question your reasoning, Father, but I must tell you, I have an odd feeling—”

“Enough,” said the king, his voice low. “The girl will be brought here tonight and burned at the stake tomorrow. I’ve already sent my men ahead to her village to have a post set in their main square.”

“Yes, Father,” replied Tristan, his voice barely audible.

The princess took a deep breath and smoothed the fury from her face. Though Tristan’s misplaced loyalty pained her, she chose instead to focus on the satisfaction of knowing the wench would get what she deserved. Rosalind shifted her gaze away from the chamber’s door and toward a window across the hall. A trip outside the castle would be a welcome break to the monotony of the past few weeks. Perhaps she’d request to accompany her father on the journey. While there, she’d be sure to meet the gaze of each remaining girl in that village and make sure the message had been received.

She would let nothing stand in the way of this wedding.

Nothing.

Chapter Eleven

Addie clenched her eyes shut and bit back the hundredth scream as her winged rescuer dipped and wove through the clouds above Edana’s countryside. Far, far above it. If she’d thought the ride on Will had been pushing her comfort zone all day, this blew that level of anxiety right out of the water. Her only saving grace now was two pairs of unmoving golden talons clamped like shackles of steel onto her arms and legs. And so she kept telling herself over and over that Zayne—who, as she’d come to find out just moments ago, truly could change into a dragon—wouldn’t let her fall. That she was perfectly safe.

Safe. Would she ever truly know that feeling again? Zayne suddenly took them higher, the negative G-force taunting her already queasy stomach. She’d thought she was safe on her run yesterday and foolishly again on the last part of her journey today. Both times she’d been wrong. Nearly
dead
wrong. If it hadn’t been for Zayne—

The scene from the battlefield flashed to her mind. The sound of something hissing through the air, then burrowing into the ground behind Brom’s giant black horse with a resounding thump. She’d barely had time to look back and register what it was before Korey had been struck. And then his horse.