The Princess's Dragon (32 page)

“No, General Josef,” Derek glanced toward the healer’s tent. “I will return to the capital city until the chasm cools.” The general nodded and hurried off.

Derek picked up his sword and re-sheathed it just as an archer raced past.

He reached out and grabbed a slender arm, yanking the archer back and around to face him.

“How dare you manhandle me, you oaf, do you have any idea who I am …” Elona bit out as she turned to face the man foolish enough to touch her. Her voice died on a squeak as she looked up into the icy eyes of the Warlord.

“What are you doing here?” Derek ground out, his expression deadly with rage.

“It’s none of your concern what I do. I am a princess.” Derek grasped her arm harder and leaned down until his face hovered mere inches above her own.

“I suggest you explain yourself, Princess, before I decide that you serve our enemy.” Derek nearly shouted the last words into her face.

“How dare you make such a suggestion? If you don’t unhand me, I will call the guards.” Elona shivered at the smile that spread across Derek’s tanned and bloodstained face. There was no humor in his smile. She suddenly realized that though he stood covered in blood he personally suffered from not a single wound.

“Go ahead,” he purred, “call the guards, Princess. Then you can explain to them what the wife of our enemy is doing here on the battlefield impersonating one of my soldiers.”

“I am a citizen of Ariva …” Elona protested.

“No,” Derek shouted, interrupting her. “You no longer belong to Ariva! You are a citizen of Bladen, our enemy, and you have infiltrated our encampment.

During wartime, my word is the law, Princess. If I decide that you are a spy, there is nothing your father can do to save you.”

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Derek leaned in even closer, so close his lips nearly brushed her own, his body heat sparked answering warmth in her even as he spoke his next threatening words. “You wouldn’t like what I do to spies, Princess.” Elona shuddered, her stomach dancing with nervous fear. She tried to pull away from him but though she put distance between them, he didn’t release her. “Answer me, or rot in Ariva’s dungeon until I have you executed as an agent of Bladen.” He waited, his grip hard and unyielding.

“I came here to kill my husband. That is all.” Elona lifted her chin and met his eyes, though she simply wanted to turn tail and run as far from him as possible, more frightened than she’d ever been in her entire life. He studied her for a moment, his eyes boring into her own. Then he thrust her away from him.

“An admirable goal,” he mocked, his eyes raking her up and down, his expression disdainful. “I suppose I should thank you for the timely assassination. Get out of my sight, Princess, and pray you make it home safely before your father learns of your actions.” Derek turned away, dismissing her from his thoughts as he strode toward the healers tent. She called softly after him, and he paused.

“Is Sondra really alive? Was that really her?” she asked.

He looked back at her where she stood waiting hopefully for his answer.

He turned away again without responding and continued to the tent, ignoring her eyes upon him.

Elona pulled her emotions back under control. She feared Derek, for the first time seeing him as the extremely dangerous man he’d become. What frightened her most was that she still desired him. He was the kind of man no woman could manipulate. She wouldn’t stand a chance with him.

Within the dark and pungent confines of the primary healer’s tent, Derek passed the wounded men, stopping to share a quick encouraging word or cheer up an ailing soldier. He finally made his way to another portion of the tent that the priestesses had roped off. Within the curtained alcove he found Sondra, resting peacefully, her body wrapped in bandages.

He kneeled next to her, studying her face. His eyes traced the soft line of her thin but shapely lips, her delicate brow, her round dimpled cheek, and her strong and pointed chin. He lifted his hand to touch her but quickly pulled it back when he noticed the blood clotting his gauntlets, instead contenting himself with leaning closer and whispering softly into her delicate ear. “Sondra, 192

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my love, you’ve come back to me, I’ll never let you go again.” He bowed his head and remained there beside her until the priestesses insisted he seek his own bedroll and much-needed rest.

On a promontory in a land now separated from Ariva by a chasm of cooling glass, Prince Onian watched the healers carry away the shapeshifter. The monster had destroyed his bone golems, his secret weapons. Their immense cost had sunk his kingdom into further debt and now they lay as nothing more than piles of bone dust. He didn’t give up easily though; he simply needed a new unstoppable weapon, and as he thought of the shapeshifter he imagined that he’d already found one. He regarded the cooling chasm, irritated by the necessary delay, but it would allow him time to hire some wizards. For his plan to work he would need them. Once the chasm became passable he determined that his spies would seek out her location and her identity.

He looked out over the battlefield at the remains of his army and the retreating backs of those kingdoms that had allied with him and would undoubtedly refuse to aid him again as long as Ariva possessed guardian dragons. Oh, yes, he would have the shapeshifter, and soon his coffers would swell with the profits from the ginacite. He smiled to himself and turned his back on a kingdom he regarded as beneath his contempt.

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CHAPTER 20

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Sondra spent the first few cycles back in Ariva recovering from the wounds on her arms and upper body that had transferred from the dragon form to her human form. She chose not to accuse the wizard for enchanting her in the fi rst placed, instead responding to everyone’s questions about what had happened and where she’d been by claiming she remembered very little. She planned her own meeting with the wizard as soon as her wounds healed, but it would be diffi cult for her to escape from her

overprotective family at this point.

Not surprisingly, the entire kingdom remained in turmoil, despite the fact that most of the enemy army retreated once the chasm split the pass. Even now, with the molten stone still cooling into an obsidia bridge, the people wondered if they’d witnessed the end of their troubles or if they’d only experienced a lull in the war as the enemy regrouped.

Sondra hardly cared what happened anymore; she found it difficult to feel much of anything while her heart shriveled up and died inside her chest. Cycle after cycle passed without the merest glimpse of Tolmac. She still experienced an ache in her spirit where they bonded, but she could no longer sense him; his thoughts or emotions remained a mystery to her.

Late at night, she tortured herself wondering where he went and whether he would ever return. She feared that he hated her, and that he felt anger at her lies and betrayal. But even worse, she feared that he felt nothing; that he was relieved to be rid of her and grateful that he’d discovered the truth about her before he made any real promises to her. Now he was free, and she was 193

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returned to where she belonged—so why did she feel like her world had just ended?

She lay in her room, surrounded by the things she’d grown up with, that her family hadn’t the heart to dispose of or move when they believed her gone.

Her clothes felt unnatural, her skin dry and itchy. Her hair constantly tangled and got in her way. She grew to despise her human form, transferring her sadness and heartbreak to disgust with her frailties and weaknesses. For the first few ten-cycles, Sondra nearly went mad from her sense of loss.

Still, over time, her anger faded, and her heart grew numb. She finally accepted that Tolmac had abandoned her, left her to her human life the moment he discovered her secret, just as she always feared he would. She couldn’t even summon enough emotion to feel anger at him for not allowing her a chance to explain, to defend her actions, to say good-bye. He was gone, and though she wasn’t entirely ready to accept the fact, she could feel it in her spirit, where the hole from their broken bond throbbed like a healing wound.

Once the healers declared Sondra fit and whole again they returned to Vivacel’s temple, and Sondra finally gained some peace and the freedom to escape her bedchambers. Her parents didn’t permit her to travel very far and insisted that guards follow her everywhere she went. They constantly fussed over her health and watched her closely, secretly fearing that the harrowing experiences she’d been through might have affected her mind as well as her body.

She certainly didn’t seem like the Sondra they remembered. She hadn’t shared her magical smile with anyone since she’d returned, and it seemed that a sad and solemn woman replaced the sweet and innocent girl they’d all known and loved. None of them knew how to reach her in those first cycles, fearing that they could never breach the wall of grief she’d built around her spirit and unaware of the reason for its existence. Because of their concerns, it wasn’t surprising that Sondra was not even permitted access to the gardens or the castle grounds, much less the city beyond the gates. After over a moon-cycle enjoying the freedom of her dragon form, she chafed at the return to her royal prison, trapped by her status and her gender and now even more so by her family’s love.

The king also restricted Sondra’s visitors, only allowing the family or servants permission to see her even after her convalescence ended. One visitor her father didn’t object to was Lord Derek. Unfortunately, the man she once

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loved was the last person she wanted to see now. He didn’t constantly inquire after her health, or ceaselessly fluff her pillows. He didn’t peer into her eyes, fearing he might spot madness there, nor did he drill her with questions she couldn’t and didn’t want to answer. He didn’t do any of the annoying and exasperating things the rest of her family did. Instead he simply sat with her, providing comfort and regaling her with amusing anecdotes and entertaining stories until she drifted off to sleep.

Not once during her convalescence did he bring up their previous relationship, nor did he mention it afterward. Like always, Derek managed to do exactly the right thing at exactly the right time, and when Sondra found herself smiling during a gentle stroll they took along the curtain wall, she felt an insane urge to turn and punch him. No man should be so perfect, especially not after she fell in love with someone else, someone that didn’t want her anymore.

She hated the guilty feelings Derek inspired in her. Though they’d never finalized their engagement and he’d never actually managed to propose, she felt as though she’d been unfaithful to him during her time away, and now her feelings had changed while his own remained strong and true. It made her feel small and unworthy, and that was not an emotion she welcomed on top of everything else she’d already endured.

Worst of all, it appeared that everyone still assumed the engagement would go forward, and things would return to the way they were before she’d left. Sondra didn’t feel worthy of Derek now that she couldn’t give him the love he so richly deserved. She didn’t feel she could just fit back into her old life, as if she’d never left, and pretend that she was the same princess she’d always been.

Derek didn’t touch her during their stroll, though he remained close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body and smell his enticing masculine scent, a combination of leather and soap over some unidentifiable but delicious scent that belonged to him alone. It bothered Sondra that she still noticed how handsome he was and that he smelled so good that she wanted to lean in even closer. The way she noticed the sharp intensity in his gorgeous eyes disturbed her.

She didn’t love him anymore, of that she felt certain. She freely gave her heart and soul to Tolmac, and the black dragon had cast those gifts aside. Now Sondra belonged to no one, and this physical attraction she felt for Derek dishonored them both.

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She found herself bursting into laughter when Derek started mimicking the voice of the cellar steward during a particularly amusing anecdote. He did such an excellent job that she could almost swear the reed-thin, ridiculously fastidious man had come up behind them. Her laughter rang out over the castle grounds, and servants and craftsmen looked around as sparkles danced in the air and the sky brightened. Suddenly, for everyone who heard the sound of her joy, their day became just a little better, their step a little lighter.

Derek teased her out of her depression; battering down her defenses like the warrior he was, until she began showing signs of her old self. He led her over to a stone parapet and she leaned against it, looking out over the courtyard. He pressed a muscled shoulder against the stone and turned to face her, studying her profile. He’d finished his story, and the silence fell between them. Derek decided that now was the time to speak of more serious matters; he had something he needed to discuss with Sondra, and he couldn’t allow himself to put it off any longer.

“Are you truly feeling recovered, Sondra? I don’t want to overtax your strength,” he queried, working up to the subject he feared would jeopardize the casual rapport he’d worked so hard to renew between them.

“I’m feeling better. The healers have done an excellent job and they believe my scars will be minimal.” Sondra didn’t notice that Derek’s expression froze; she was startled when he dropped to his knees in front of her and grasped both her hands, holding them trapped within the warmth of his own.

“I am so sorry, Sondra, can you ever forgive me?” Sondra stared at his stricken face, shocked. Her … forgive him? She was the one who’d given her heart to another, callously forsaking her unspoken vow to Derek. She voiced her confusion.

“Forgive you for what, Derek?”

He stared at her as if she’d suddenly lost her senses.

“For wounding you, when you were fighting our enemy for us. By the gods, Sondra, I very nearly killed you! I am haunted at night by the sight of your broken body on that battlefield! I came so close, so close to destroying what mattered most to me. Can you find it in your heart to trust me again, Sondra?