C4 Chapter 3

Lis swallowed. The dagger dangled uselessly in her right hand, the revival herbs in her left.

An irrational lick of fear ran up her spine. He wouldn't actually eat her, would he? That was...barbaric...but then, there were those stories...

“It would be a shame, too. Red heads are my favorite,” he murmured. The last words slurred a little and his eyelid lowered to half-mast. He kept her wrists bound firmly in his left hand. His other snaked upward and brushed along the curve of her waist and up the small of her back until they clasped her nape through the brown hood. Pressure urged her downward and forward. His intent clear. He would kiss her.

The realization made her jerk back, angling her face away before studying him like one of her wayward specimens. Red heads were his favorite? Her hair was pulled back as tightly as she could manage, and hidden beneath the hood of her cowl, but some strands at her hairline were probably revealed when he snatched her. Was he...seducing her? He wasn't even fully cognizant.

She waited for his grip to loosen. When it became apparent that it wasn't going to happen, she peered at his face again. He hadn't tried for another kiss, and she needed to assess her chances of extricating herself. She was forced to look at him directly, it made every logical sense, but she cursed the shame that years of scolding for such actions brought her.

He watched her back, the amber of his irises glowing beneath hooded lids. Confusion and desire warred for possession of his expression. For a moment, his eyes faltered and rolled upward. The sedative pulled at him, but he fought valiantly.

He gave his head a small shake. The gesture, tiny, but the effort to complete it in his state must have been momentous. “What have you done to me?” he demanded.

“I am attempting to wake you,” she gritted, a variety of insults flowing through her mind.

Normally, she would let her thoughts flow freely—biting her tongue never saved her from the scathing opinions of others anyway. But right at that moment, she considered that insulting the enemy was likely unwise.

She tugged, but it was like being entrapped by living metal. Really warm, and far too attractive living metal.

“You wish for my services.” It wasn't a question and he grinned slowly, revealing straight white teeth and an unnervingly attractive dimple on his right cheek.

The rest of her admonition drifted off and she became distracted by the quick tapping of her heart. Suddenly, her mouth lost all moisture and her lips felt dry. She found her tongue darting out to wet them. The Dragon Lord did not miss the action, his gaze focused on the movement.

He pulled again at her nape, and, as he still held her wrists, she toppled down on top of him without much resistance. He dragged her forward until her chest was pressed against his and then ran warm fingers down her spine until they cupped her bottom. He lifted his hips, pressing himself against her side.

She tried desperately not to think about what she was feeling. His arousal, and how it was so near to...

Just the effects of waking, she reminded herself. Men woke in such a state, and of course Dragon Lords took everything to the extreme. He was simply reacting to the situation, putting the pieces of his knowledge together. Not that it excused him...barbarian.

“Let go,” she demanded.

“Kiss me,” he countered.

For one insane moment, she actually considered it. Which not only surprised her, but drug her awareness back to where it should have been all along. Adda. This was not some game, this was an enemy. A Dragon Lord. And though her plans had gone awry, she still needed him. Just not in the way he assumed. But a woman could not think so pressed against all this warm muscle, inches away from soft lips, and with her heart trying to burst from her chest.

“...Dragon Lord,” she growled. “If you do not release me, I swear I will see to it that you sleep for another month.”

He stilled, both his eyes and his grip narrowing menacingly. The drugs dulled his wits, but they still existed.

“And what witchcraft is this that dulls my senses and renders me unconscious?” His tone matched the expression on his face, one that said he was far too dangerous to her, even in this state.

“It is not witchcraft,” she huffed, pulling back, insisting he give her space to think. To her surprise, he conceded...slightly. She was by no means released, but she was able to sit up and away from him. She looked to the floor and worked on her barrier to his senses. It wouldn't do for the Lord to see through the relief, to know that he had affected her so. She would not gift him such an advantage.

“It is medicine. You nearly died. I created a sedative that would help to keep you alive.”

Dark eyebrows shot up.

“How does a sedative keep one alive?” he asked suspiciously.

“It didn't keep you alive, it kept you still. Your body was torn viciously, and it could not begin its healing while you tossed and turned about muttering nonsense. I know dragon healing is nearly as quick as Shifter, but not if you kept opening the wounds.”

His eyes lost focus and he released her right arm to rub at his face viciously. She took the opportunity to move farther from him.

“Why can't I remember any of this?”

She studied her dagger, now free from restraint, debating. Should she use it? He had rendered her helpless far quicker than she had expected and it made her very uncomfortable. He made her uncomfortable. She had not experienced this level of arousal...well...ever. That was disturbing for a myriad of reasons. Yet, to return him to slumber now was to give up, not just on him, but on any action. She could not venture from the camp on her own. Not where she was headed. Not if she wanted to live.

“You have been asleep for a few weeks. Three and two days, to be exact. It will take your memory time to recover.”

“Three weeks?” he snarled, attempting to sit. “I have lost three weeks?”

She nodded.

“But...,” his eyes flared and he shot up to standing. It lasted a moment before he was forced to sit once more. “Pourtus, a traitor, I didn't see him coming. What happened at the Onyx Aerie?” He grabbed her arm again, shaking it a little, sending rough vibrations through her entire body. “Where is Dynarys, or the rest of the Dragon Lords?”

She shrugged, a little angry at being tossed around like some child's toy. “I do not know, nor do I care.”

That seemed to bring back his focus a little. He released her other arm and she stepped back, out of reach.

“I am sorry, Shifter, if you provided me care as you have said, and I sense no lie on you, then I owe you a great debt.”

Finally, this is where she had imagined the conversation going, at least after she had considered the possibility of his hatred and an outright attack.

“I must go now. I need to know the outcome, though I suppose I will be too late to do any good,” he tried to stand once more.

Wait, he was leaving?

“No!” she growled. “I did not wake you to go flying off. You owe me your aid, Dragon Lord.”

She sensed his surprise and the return of suspicion. He stilled, half way to standing, hunched a little and holding the cot for support.

“Just what do I owe you?” he spoke softly, the quality of his words reminding her of a panther ready to pounce. Dangerous.

No, she frowned at herself. There would be no pouncing.

“You owe me your life, as you have said already.”

Alright, that was a stretch. He probably owed his life to the scouts that found him more than he did her, for a sedative she already had and only strengthened. But she wasn't about to tell him the details.

“And you owe me for your freedom, which I am giving to you. The pack thinks you are safer unconscious.”

Anger became palpable in the air. “You said that I was sedated to heal.”

“You were,” she considered her dagger once more. What chance would she have at landing a strike upon him? None, she decided.

That part of her plan hadn't been well calculated. “It was once you healed that the pack realized what a threat you would be. They have been debating what to do with you.”

“All the while keeping me asleep and away from my own people. People who need me.” A hand brushed over his hair and tangled in the knots there.

“People who think you are dead, Dragon Lord. Not so much as a single scout has been spotted in this part of the forest for two weeks.”

He stood upright, stepping toward her. He should not have been able to do so, but she was quickly learning that the Dragon Lord defied the things that he should be able to do. It was intimidating. She could run from him still, given his current strength he would not catch her. But the alert would be sounded and the pack warriors would have little mercy. Already some debated simply ending his life in a humane way; the only fact saving such a method from serious consideration was that the Lord had yet to do harm. And destroying life that was peaceful toward the pack, minus those lives took for food, was against the law.

The blanket had fallen away; it was something she easily ignored. Years of practice diverting her thoughts elsewhere and the constant near nudity of cousins and relatives had given her plenty of practice doing so. But as he stalked forward, her thoughts were arrested by the way his muscles rippled as he moved, the shifting of the patterns on his skin nearly mesmerizing, like prey before a cobra.

It took most of her strength to avert her eyes and keep them that way, even when he neared within reach.

“Shifter, I have little tolerance for games. There are lives at risk, and I will not allow a silly girl, or her desires, to stop me from my duty.”

Her desires? Silly girl? She was nearing twenty six years of age, hardly a girl. And as to her desires...

“You pig-headed rock licker,” she snarled. “You still think I am waking you up for sex? I should have poisoned you and been done with it.”

That stilled him.

Great Six. This is why it was just easier to stay away from other people. What she wanted to happen, the ease of conversation and clarity of her purpose, just never formed. Instead, she managed to lose her temper or become impatient and insult someone important. Or dangerous.

“I wouldn't poison you,” she corrected swiftly, guessing his next move would be to end her before she proved as crazy as she appeared. “But I wouldn't have sex with you, either. And I am well aware there are lives at risk. That is why I need your help.”