Love of the Dragon (Her Dragon's Bane 4) (3 page)

She took it, not expecting it to be so heavy. Bracing herself she lifted it up, pointing the tip into the air. “Easy.”

Smiling wickedly, he reached for a sword of his own, long, broad and straight. Swapping it from hand to hand, he tested its weight. She copied him, gaining the feel of her own.

“Now practice getting your hold right. It has to be comfortable, but secure, or else it will be knocked from your hand. Too tight and you won’t be able to hold it for long enough. Remember, these battles went on for hours.”

“OK. I think I’ve got it. So what now?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to actually fight.”

“Why? Are you afraid I might beat you, old man?”

He grinned. “That is fighting talk, but I’ve spent years training. I can beat Connor most of the time. So you have no chance. Why not start with some training? I can set up a training post.”

“Boring,” she said.

He saw the jab coming before her hand even moved. Reading your opponent was easy when they were slow and clumsy. Still he allowed her the thrill of thinking she had a chance. At the last moment, he pushed her sword away with his own.

“Lucky,” she said.

Zoah had to hold onto his self-control. He never was very good at being goaded, especially by the woman he wanted to impress. “Again.”

She stepped forward, into his space, this time. He sidestepped. Learning from his actions, she came at him again. This time she timed it better. However, she had no chance of landing a blow. Unless he let her. His pride would not let him do that.

It didn’t take long for her to tire. Her movements were becoming slower, her arm struggling to raise the iron sword. Still she kept on until a sheen of perspiration covered her forehead.

“Enough?” he asked.

“No. I’m going to beat you.”

“Not tonight.”

“You want to quit?”

“I never quit.”

“That makes two of us.”

She started to swipe at him, her movements jerky and out of control. Yet she kept coming at him. Once she tripped and nearly fell. He reached out and caught her arm, righting her again, trying to ignore the sensations that flooded him. As if she were poison, he released her quickly.

Instantly, she came at him again. This had to end; she wouldn't be able to move in the morning, her muscles would ache so much.

“Let’s go get a drink,” he said.

“Are you yielding to me?”

“I have never yielded. This has gone on too long. You’re tiring.”

“I’m not the old man.”

She lunged at him. He sidestepped but she turned and stabbed at him again, narrowly missing him. Zoah felt his temper flare. She never knew when to give up. If it wasn’t complaining about her curfew, it was about her clothes. Now she was going to get herself hurt. So he ended it.

With one swift movement, he brought his sword down hard on hers. She yelped in fright and dropped her sword. He stepped into her personal space and before the movement registered with her brain, he had over-balanced her. But he didn’t let her fall. He would never let her fall.

With one strong arm, he caught her. Her flailing hands going around his neck to give herself some support.

For one long moment, their eyes met. A world of emotion passed between them. It would be so easy to bend his head forward and kiss her. Charlotte must have known this was what he wanted because she moistened her lips. Preparing for her first taste of him.

It would be so easy to fulfil his desire.

He was going to kiss her. Why did she want this so much? She should push him away and tell him he was a pervert.

“Do you yield?” he asked softly.

Oh boy, did she yield. The hormones rushing through her body were overpowering her brain. Her fingers tightened around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. She was ready for her first kiss. Unable to comprehend why something so wrong felt so perfectly right.

There was only one answer she could give and when she looked into his eyes, she saw there was only one answer he would accept. “Yes, Zoah. I yield.” She closed her eyes. Isn’t that what you did when a man kissed you? And waited for their lips to meet.

“I win,” he said, lifting her to an upright position.

Charlotte swayed, her emotions still overpowering her. It took several seconds for her brain to kick in and start working to process what had happened. He had played her. Embarrassed and disappointed, her rage grew.

“That wasn’t fair.”

“Then that is your first lesson. No one plays fair.”

“But I thought you were ... that you were going to...”

“What?” His smirking face told her he had made her think exactly what he wanted her to think. What a fool she was to ever trust him.

“You are such an idiot,” she fumed.

“I’ve been called worse,” he teased. Zoah picked the swords up and put them back in place next to their armour. While Charlotte glared at his back. Wishing she could push one of those pointy swords into his ego.

He was so frustratingly calm, so superior. She wanted him to be taken down a peg or two, for him to learn that he could not always win. If only she knew that right now, he felt like the biggest loser of all time.

With nothing left to say to him, she stormed off. Running along the cool hallways unseeing through the tears in her eyes. Ignoring the various collections of trinkets the dragons had collected over the centuries. Even her favourite medieval tapestries didn’t draw her eye. Flinging her door open she stormed into her room, her hand catching the door to slam it shut.

A ball of fluff only narrowly missed being squashed as she dived into Charlotte’s room. Immediately, Charlotte’s temper dissipated. Scooping the little cat up into her arms, she buried her face in her fur. Then she cried out her frustration. The low, rumbling purr calmed her until she felt herself again.

“I’m sorry, Hope. I nearly squashed you. But that stupid dragon drives me mad.” Hope sat looking at Charlotte with her knowing eyes, completely in agreement. “But it’s OK. Serena is coming home tomorrow. We’ll be a family again and I won’t have to see him. In fact, I’m going to try to avoid him as much as possible.”

Too late to go out and too annoyed to sleep, she got ready for bed and dug out her book to read. Hopefully it would make her feel sleepy and she could wake up in the morning in a better mood. She had Serena and Connor's return to look forward to. Perhaps her sister would be showing her baby bump by now. After two months away, there had been plenty of time for the little dragon to grow inside her.

***

There was a knock at her door. Charlotte looked at the time; it was a little after eleven. She hadn’t managed to fall asleep but her eyes were heavy and she hated getting out of her warm bed. Should she ignore it and pretend she was asleep? That would be better than speaking to Zoah again. Although her temper had subsided, she was still mad with him.

He knocked again, this time a little more insistent. He wasn’t going to go away. Waking her up didn’t bother him. She was certain that he thought everyone was like him. If there was one thing she had learned about Zoah, it was that he didn’t need to sleep much.

“Charlotte.”

“I’m tired.”

“Please, Charlotte, will you open the door?” he asked, his voice strained.

“What do you want, Zoah? Unless you’ve come to apologise I don’t want to speak to you.” She knew that would get rid of him. Zoah never apologised.

“Open the door. There’s something I want to ask you.”

“Apology first.”

“Charlotte...”

“Goodnight, Zoah.”

“OK. I’m ... sorry.”

“For what?”

A sigh of exasperation, loud enough for her to hear through the door, made her smile. She was enjoying this. It was about time she had some power over him, he was like a closed book emotionally. Only his looks and body language ever told her how to get under his skin.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

She climbed out of her warm covers and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to decide what to do. There was no way she could ignore him when he had done as she asked. However, she was nervous of what he was here for. There was only the two of them in the house and despite his behaviour, she couldn’t forget that look of longing in his eyes. What if he wanted to...

Ridiculous. Pushing herself off the bed, she walked to the door and opened it to confront him. He looked terrible.

“Zoah. Are you alright?”

“Yes. But I need to fly.”

“Fly? Oh you mean go all dragon?”

“Yes. It’s been itching to get out for days.”

“Then go.”

“I can’t leave you here alone.”

At this point, if she had remained true to character, she would have told him not to be stupid. She wasn’t a child. However, Charlotte was as flexible as trees in the wind when it came to her views. When it suited her.

“Then take me with you.”

“OK.”

“That was too easy.” She studied his face. “That’s what you were going to ask me? To go with you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to fly and you can’t stay here on your own. You don’t have school tomorrow so I thought it would be OK for you to come with me.”

“So, purely selfish reasons?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll have to dress.” She tried to put on that “I suppose” teenager voice she cultivated around him so well. Instead, she sounded breathless and excited.

He chose not to notice. “I’ll meet you at the bottom of the tower. Dress warmly and don’t take too long.”

She didn’t answer, simply slamming the door behind him so she could dress without him watching. Although she needn’t have worried. He was already striding off down the hallway, no doubt to wait impatiently for her. Not that she planned to take long. This was going to be epic. Riding on a dragon’s back. A real, live dragon.

Before now, she had only seen him from a distance. He had become a little self-conscious about anyone watching him change. All she knew was that he was blue. What he felt like to touch, whether he was warm or cold, she had no idea. Tonight he was going to share that with her. Even if it was for selfish reasons. She didn’t care.

Pulling on jeans and several layers of shirts and sweaters, she grabbed her winter coat. Pulling open the door, she spilled out into the hallway before she realised she hadn’t put anything on her feet. Back into her room, she put on two pairs of socks and her snow boots.

There. Not exactly fashionable. Nevertheless, warm. He couldn’t complain about that. Back out the door she raced. Along the hallways, she followed well-known twists and turns as she raced to meet him.

He ran his hand along the Moon Altar. His mind conjuring up images of her face. This was where they were supposed to consummate their love.

Love. That was never going to happen. He saw the way she looked at him. An old fossil compared to her youth. If he told her now, she might fall in love with the idea of being his mate. A romantic angst-filled teenager would no doubt find it attractive to be the mate of a creature like him. But she wouldn’t be in love with him.

He laughed at himself. Since when did he need love? He had lived for thousands of years without it; he had no need for it now. There was no way he was going to tell her. Even if the very thought of her stirred his body to passion.

Looking up at the Moon Window, he saw the stars high in the sky. Sparkling in the inky blackness. He longed to fly into the blackness. For night to consume him, so he didn’t have improper thoughts about her. Instead, he had invited her to sit on his back and fly with him. She had thought it was for selfish reasons, and she was right. But not the ones she imagined.

These were his own. Tomorrow Serena and Connor would return, and then he would leave. He didn’t want her lasting memory of him to be of the moody, egotistical man he was. Instead, he wanted her to remember this night as the night she rode on a dragon’s back. For the rest of her life she would think back and thrill at the freedom of this flight.

Footsteps racing towards him forced him to move away from the altar. He didn’t want to answer her questions about it. He didn’t want to lie to her. So he went to the foot of the tower. When she came bursting around the corner he could take her straight up the stone steps. Far away from the place of sacrifice.

“I’m ready,” she said breathlessly. He looked her up and down, and she couldn’t resist giving him a twirl. “Do you think I’ll be warm enough?”

“I wasn't planning on flying to the Antarctic.”

“Have you been there?”

“Does everything make you excited?” he asked, turning to begin the long climb up the steps.

“I’m sorry if I’m not so old that I’ve been everywhere and done everything. It’s not my fault.”

He stopped abruptly and she nearly ran into him. “No. It’s not. I’m sorry.”

“Two apologies in one night. You’re a changed man.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said and continued the ascent of the tower.

“Shame. I like this new, improved Zoah.”

“And yes. I have been there. It’s a great place for a dragon. There are no people for miles and miles.”

“But it’s so cold.”

“I’m a dragon. I don't feel the cold.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

He set a fast pace up the stairs, his dragon desperately trying to free itself now she was near. The flame burned inside him until he had to consciously hold himself together. Never had his other side exerted such a force on his mind.

Behind him, Charlotte dropped further behind. Her clothes were hampering her progress. He should wait for her. However, it was impossible to help her. He dared not touch her in the confines of the stairwell. If his dragon claimed his body as its own and he changed here, he would kill her. The tower would collapse as his big, bulking body burst through the thick walls.

The trap door was in sight. He lengthened his stride, pulling the bolt and flinging the door open with enough force to shatter the wood. Out into the cool night air he plunged, taking deep, calming breaths. He held himself together for long enough for Charlotte to clamber out onto the tower.