C3 Chapter 2

Lis sighed, guilt nagging at her, but enemy or not, she would need him if she were to rescue Adda.

A soft worn blanket had been tossed over his figure. She frowned at it, unsure as to why it had been placed so. The way it lay, with his slow, shallow breathing, made it look more like a death shroud than a resting placement. Surely that was not more comforting than a view of the man himself?

Tentatively, she reached out her fingers and moved the blanket from his face.

Thankfully, no one was around to hear the foolish gasp that escaped her lips. Surprise had her drop the material and stare stupidly.

Generally, she was more excited about new discoveries and the intricate workings of different devices than men in general. And she had no love for the Dragon Lords; their kind had caused hers more than enough trouble as far as she was concerned. But there was no denying this man's beauty. The lantern light flickered against his defined cheekbones, visible even while covered with a few weeks growth. Heavy lashes fluttered actively and, even in sleep, he scowled, dark brows pulled together.

She spared a glance at the chocolate locks spread against the cot and, for an insane moment, wondered if they were as soft as they looked. Stupid woman. His shoulders drew her gaze next. Not their shape, though he was as broad and muscled as any of the pack warriors, but the designs that marked his skin. Injured as he had been, the healing of a Dragon Lord was complete, not even scars remained to show the tatters of flesh he had been when found. But strange black swirls and symbols covered his deep tan. She squinted at them, trying to decipher their meaning, but they were either purely decoration or a language she did not know...which would be any language besides her own. She rolled her eyes at herself. She really was an idiot.

Morbidly fascinated, she extended a finger, poking one of the markings. The skin indented where she touched, the marking cratering. He was much hotter than she expected and she pondered that for a moment. If his body was that much warmer than that of a Shifter, it might explain why the serum seemed to be less effective. Perhaps it was a good thing she had decided to take action and wake him. What other effects might differ for him? The serum had several that could be harmful if used inappropriately, and he required a higher dose than she was comfortable with anyway. She wouldn't want to be responsible for any unfortunate side effects.

She pulled open the tie of her satchel and reached inside, grabbing the long smooth vial with three bands along the top. Her own little code so she could easily identify the contents. That one should have been fresh, brewed only a few days before. She shook it vigorously and opened the seal.

The aroma was obvious immediately, a stench hard to miss and strong enough that it left a bitter taste at the back of her throat. She did not envy the Lord his taste buds for the next few days.

She eyed him, still deep in slumber. His upper lip curled in distaste, an expression that clearly showed he was at least partially aware of his surroundings.

Fascinating.

Was he aware enough to detect her presence, as well? The idea, she admitted, was a little nerve wracking. She turned to Thornic, the warrior who, ideally, would have been there to protect her should something untoward happen. He lay in a crumpled heap, one leg sprawled out behind him, as though he'd had the thought to crawl from the tent before succumbing to the moonblossom. Well, there was no time to restructure the plan, she would have to take the risk of approaching—or perhaps coercing was a more accurate term—this Lord alone.

She reached back inside her satchel, removing a second phial, this one much larger with a wide mouth. She pulled the topper off with her teeth, which wasn't the smartest thing she had ever done. She must be more nervous than she thought. It wouldn't take much of the sedative to knock her out, as well.

She took a deep shaking breath, setting the foul smelling tincture gently where it would not spill, and carefully lined the blade of her dagger with the sedative. The fluid was generally for digestion, but a small hit to the blood stream should make the effect nearly immediate. She hoped. It was her only recourse should things go horribly wrong.

She re-corked the sedative and replaced it in her bag, then, with all the care of approaching a sleeping leopard, she leaned over the Dragon Lord and waved the recovery herbs beneath his nose.

Nothing happened.

Disappointed, she waved them faster; it was incomprehensible that he was not reviving. She created the mixture to be incredibly strong; such a mixture should have practically woken the dead...

He moved faster than she anticipated and suddenly both of her wrists were ensnared in his big hands and she was crushed against his chest, nearly on top of him.

Heat blasted through her breasts, the sensitive nipples purling immediately, leaving a trailing reaction that shot down to other areas she tried to ignore. Against everything she had ever learned, and every instinct of self-preservation her mother insisted she did not have, she looked at his face and met his gaze.

A flaring set of amber eyes stared back at her.

“You had better have a good explanation as to why I am laying here with my head splitting from the inside woman, or I will let my dragon devour you.”