Heart Of The Dragon (Her Dragon's Bane 3) (9 page)

“Weapons?” he asked Dòmhnall. “You cannot expect me to fight him with my bare hands.”

“Oh, I could,” answered Dòmhnall, as he walked away.

Serena’s heart sank, they didn’t stand a chance. Regret at not telling Connor to walk away filled her. She had been so selfish to buy into Connor’s dream of helping her live forever. Now Connor would die, and Serena would be given to another dragon. They had failed their child.

However, Connor was not about to give up so easily. As Marcas spewed fire into the air, he ducked and rolled out of the way. “Dòmhnall,” he roared. “A weapon. He has fire, what am I supposed to use?”

“Here.” Dòmhnall threw a sword and shield at Connor. “If you manage to draw blood, you will have passed the trial.”

“That’s it? Draw blood?”

“Marcas has very hard scales. I would like to see you succeed.” Then he laughed. “Actually, no I wouldn’t.”

He walked away into the trees. Connor ran to retrieve the sword, cursing at the blunt edge. The shield was equally useless, battered and dented so it was difficult to hold on his arm.

Still he held onto it as he turned around to face his foe.

Marcas prowled towards him. Carefully placing his large feet on the ground as he stalked his prey. Connor stood squarely in front of him, swiping the air with his sword, trying to test its weight and balance. The frown on his face did nothing to encourage Serena to be confident that they had any chance.

Marcas lifted one of his giant feet, and swiped at Connor. Easily avoiding it, he rolled across the ground, straight under Marcas. He thrust his sword upwards at the dragon's belly. Serena held her breath, was that it, had Connor drawn first blood already?

No. Marcas didn’t as much as flinch. Instead, he prepared his next bout of fire breathing. This time while Connor was pushing himself to his knees. Springing forward, Connor once more rolled away, out of danger. Then he rapidly gained his feet and poked his sword into Marcas tail. This time it must have stung. Marcas whirled around, his tail slashing, trying to knock his attacker off his feet.

Connor avoided it, jumping over the long snake like tail. Marcas reared up and pounced like a cat onto a mouse, this time managing to knock Connor off his feet.

He landed, sprawled on the ground, but out of Marcas’s clutches. Yet now he was so close to Serena, and Marcas was preparing to breathe fire again.

“Connor, get up.” Serena shouted. Connor shoved himself away just in time, although the smell of singed cloth was in the air. It had been a narrow escape.

On and on they went. The two evenly matched in skill, but not in stamina. The dragon could do this all day, but Connor in his human form could not.

“Connor, release me,” she shouted, but still he ignored her.

Marcas looked at Serena, and he licked his lips with his forked tongue. He tasted her, tasted her fear, and savoured it. If a dragon could smirk, that was what Marcas would be doing. He knew he only had to bide his time and avoid the blunt sword that could not damage him. Then Serena would be his.

“”Connor, Connor. Please.”

Connor lunged at Marcas again, and again. Each time his strength seemed to be ebbing away. Marcas swiped at him, only narrowly missing him. Serena pulled and pulled, screaming his name. But Connor’s attention was fixed firmly on Marcas.

The dragon was becoming more confident. He had learned to read his opponent, and feigned a swipe, forcing Connor to leap out of the way. However, he was ready for the move, and shifted his balance to hit Connor squarely in the back. Although he managed to duck at the last minute, the wind was knocked out of him, and he fell to the floor.

“No,” Serena cried, a mixture of anger and fear. He had to get up. It couldn’t end like this. “Connor.”

Marcas turned, and she could see him getting ready to breathe fire at Connor. Her mate, the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with was about to die.

“No. You coward, is that what you do here, stab each other in the back.”

Marcas turned to look at her, a glint of pleasure in his eye at watching her squirm like this, full of anger and loss. Behind him, Connor stirred, and she saw her chance. Perhaps he might not have freed her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help Connor.

“He’s more of a man than you could ever be. Look at you, next to Connor you are nothing. No wonder you wanted to fight him while he was in human form. If he had been allowed to change he would have beat you easily.”

Marcas swept around to face her. She knew she had to keep his attention. “If you kill him you will only prove how scared you are to take him on dragon on dragon. Or man on man. If you really are the strong arm of the Dragon Lord, you should prove yourself in an even battle. What’s wrong with you? Scared he will take your place?”

He threw his head back and roared, his stinking hot breath making her cringe away from him. But she couldn’t allow him to turn around. She needed him to look at her, to focus his whole attention on her.

“No wonder there are no other women here. I bet you couldn’t satisfy any woman. I don’t know why you wanted me in your bed, next to Connor you’re nothing.”

Maracas shifted from foot to giant foot. His forked tongue came out of his mouth and licked her face. Then he curled it around her waist, stroking her body to transfer his scent on to her.

Serena forced herself not to gag. Instead she stood tall and straight and spat at him, “You’re nothing. A coward not worthy of being the strong arm of the Dragon Lord.”

He reared up, and in that one moment exposed his soft underbelly. Connor, the sword gripped in both hands, appeared from behind him. He slipped beneath him and plunged it upwards into a gap between his scales.

Blood, crimson and bright splattered over his hand. Serena thanked the fates that it wasn’t Connor's blood dripping onto the ground to mix in with the dust and stones.

Feeling faint, she collapsed to her knees. Only the rope stopping her from falling flat on the ground and throwing up. She fought for control, while Connor rushed towards her. Behind him, the great hulking lump of dragon flesh bellowed in pain.

“Serena, are you alright?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

She looked up, only to see the horror of Marcas, blood running from the gash in his belly, preparing to breathe his deadly fire over them. There was nothing to stop him, she looked at Connor and all she could say was, “I love you.”

Then she closed her eyes and waited for the end to come. At least they were together, the three of them. Mother, father and son.

The horror on her face told him everything. In that moment he thought of all the years he had lived alone in this world. How unfair it was that now he had found everything that made his world complete, his long life was about to end. He wrapped his arms around Serena, and held her close.

“Enough, Marcas. He won fairly.”

Marcas, his fire already formed, turned his head to the sky, and released the foul death breath. Connor felt the scorching heat on his back, and placed his hand protectively over Serena’s head.

“Go. Fly until you can return calm. This was a trial, not a fight to the death. If that was what I wanted I would have given Connor a bigger sword.” His voice tried to convey humour, but the anger there was barely veiled.

Marcas swung his head from side to side. Connor was sure if Marcas had been in human form he would be arguing with his lord and master. The expression on Dòmhnall’s face made it clear he would deal with him later. Any kind of insubordination was not tolerated.

“Go,” Dòmhnall said, and Connor felt electricity tickling his skin. If Marcas chose to disobey his master now, Dòmhnall would change and a real battle would ensue.

While the standoff continued, Connor took the blunt sword and cut the rope holding Serena to the post. He had expected her to be happy, to fall into his arms with gratitude. Instead, she said, “Why didn’t you do that when you needed my help?”

“Because I had it all under control.”

“Under control. He was about to cook you alive.”

“I would have handled it.”

“You can’t bear to say it can you?”

"Say what?” He looked genuinely bewildered.

“That you needed my help.”

“I would have got back up and stuck the sword in him anyway.”

“I told you we needed to work together.”

“I couldn’t risk it Serena.” He shook his head to emphasise his point.

“By not releasing me, you risked everything. I told you what Tara said,” Serena insisted.

“The witch gave you advice on how to win this battle?” Dòmhnall cut in. He had been watching the whole exchange. Behind him, Marcas disappeared into the sky. Angry fire leapt from his mouth to scorch the treetops as he flew.

Serena glanced nervously at Connor; he knew what she was silently asking him. How much do we tell Dòmhnall? If they were forbidden to see Tara, would they succeed, or even survive without her help?

“She told me we must work together,” Serena answered simply.

“And you believe in her powers enough to trust them?” Dòmhnall came closer, his usually bored expression showing interest for the first time. “I have no love of witches and their lies. Tell me, would you risk everything on her words?”

Connor answered quickly. “No. I would not.”

“Really? So does she lie?”

“No. But I am not a creature who needs the counsel of witches to make my decisions.”

“Good. Because I would be disappointed to find out she controls you.”

“I find her words useful, but my mind is my own.”

Dòmhnall took one more step forward, towering above Serena, who stood her ground. Connor could feel a slight tremble pass through her body, but she lifted her head defiantly. He braced himself to fight with the Dragon Lord. If he laid so much as a finger on Serena or his unborn child, he would kill him.

“I like you, Dragon’s Mate. For woman you have a small amount of courage. I wonder how deep that loyalty to Connor goes. You hold onto it so tightly. But can I make you let it go?" His words spoken as if he were talking to himself, his eyes vague and unseeing. Then he straightened, and said loudly, “Take them back to the stronghold.”

Connor clutched Serena’s hand; he wanted to make sure there was no chance of losing her again. Yet as they left the scene of the fight, Dòmhnall turned and said, “Rest. Tonight we travel to the place where your fates will be decided.”

They were almost back to the stronghold. Walking in the fresh air, under the canopy of the silent forest relaxed her. Such beautiful surroundings made it hard to believe what had happened. Her mind replayed it over again, how they had nearly lost each other. Then she shifted to worrying about what Dòmhnall had planned for their next trial.

Connor squeezed Serena’s hand, and said, “Don’t be afraid, Serena. We are invincible if we stick together.”

She smiled, and said, “That is what I told you. It’s a shame you didn’t listen.”

“I have learned my lesson.”

“I hope so. Things changed in the years you removed yourself from the world. It became obvious that women can do most things men can do.”

“I am sure there are some things a woman cannot do that a man can.” His hand slipped around her waist, and then moved lower to cup her round bottom.

She turned to him shocked. “They can see?”

“So? Perhaps they should know how wonderful it is to have your true mate by your side. Then they might not be so willing to follow Dòmhnall’s orders.”

“I didn’t know you came here to start a revolution.”

“Nor did I?” He moved behind her. They were walking along the hallway to their room. With each step, he moved closer to her, until she felt the press of him against the small of her back. She stepped away from him. Connor captured her and pulled her back against his body. Hands roaming her body while Raal opened the door of their room.

Connor didn’t speak. His mouth already nuzzling her neck, his hands cupping her breast from behind. She tilted her head back to rest on his shoulder. The sound of the door being kicked shut made her jump, but then she lost herself to him. His fingers clawed at her clothes, his need so desperate. Right now, she didn’t care when they tore, as he ripped them from her.

The adrenalin still pumped through his veins. He spent little time on foreplay, instead bending her over the bed, and unzipping his pants. They fell to the floor, and he pushed them aside with his foot. His hand went around her. His fingers found her clit, rubbing it until she was wet and ready for him. His fever was contagious. She was caught up in the need to renew their love, their bond to each other.

This morning had nearly torn them apart. This act of making love was the thing they both needed to bring them back to being as one.

His cock pressed against her sex, and he lifted her leg to allow himself to slide into her. She closed her eyes and thankful that it was not Marcas entering her. She only ever wanted to make love with Connor, her true mate. To be taken by another man would be unbearable. An act she would never have recovered from. The betrayal would have endured forever.

“Connor.” She said his name, wanting to feel him inside her. His strong arms wrapped around her, as he brought her closer and closer to her orgasm. One hand gripped her hip. He pulled out before thrusting back inside her sex, grunting with each stroke. Serena buried her face into the covers of the bed and cried out, drowning the sound. Her body ached for him, and he didn’t disappoint her. He never did.

Hard jerks into her, his seed filling her while her sex throbbed and pulsed around him. Connor threw his head back and roared his release, wanting every other being in the stronghold to know she was his. This was how it was meant to be. If he had his way, if he could find the strength, this was how it would be forever. He would win the gift of immortality for his mate.

Serena collapsed down onto the bed, utterly spent. The trial, and lack of sleep, had taken all her strength. Connor leaned down, and kissed her back, sending shivers up her spine. He licked and kissed her skin. His arms going around her and finding her breasts, his finger playing with her nipples while she lay in contented bliss.