Dragon Actually

her mind and the screaming in her head lessened, she said the chant that would shift her back. Bright colors of Magick sparked off her human body . . . then nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“She took your powers.”

Rhiannon turned her head and looked over at the black dragon watching her.

“Bercelak,” she sneered. Of course, where else would her mother make sure she dropped but at the feet of the one dragon Rhiannon never wanted to see?

I hate that bitch.

“Rhiannon.”

Growling, she forced her human body to sit up. “You will . . . Low Born . . . call me by my title. I’m Princess Rhiannon to you.”

He stared at her for a moment with his typical frown—did he have any other expression?—then he snorted. “Princess you may be. But at the moment you are one without powers or claws.” He stood up and took several steps toward her. “You are human. No wings. No way to escape me. It was a good thing I recognized you or I might have had a lovely meal of you with some parsley. And potatoes.”

Two more steps brought him closer, and Rhiannon ignored the pain in her head and backed up.

“All that soft skin and those breakable bones,” he fairly crooned. “We can’t let you out in this cruel world so defenseless, princess. You’ll need me to care for you. To protect you. Just as I had to do today. If it hadn’t been for the skills my mother gave me and what I learned on the field of battle, I may not have been able to heal you.”

“I need nothing from you, Bercelak, son of a slag.”

He stopped moving, his cold black eyes locking on her face. “Since I know for a fact your own mother took a turn on my father’s cock, excuse me if I’m not truly insulted.” One eyebrow raised. “We aren’t kin, are we?”

“You . . .” Stunned that anyone dare speak to her in such a manner, Rhiannon forced herself to her feet. The screaming in her head became decidedly worse, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t let the arrogant bastard treat her like this. No one . . . absolutely no one treated her like this.

“Listen to me well, Low Born, don’t think for a second I won’t cut your heart from your worthless hide and wear it on my head . . . like a hat.”

Bercelak spit out a spell. Flame burst around the dragon and faded, leaving only his human form. And, oh . . . by the dark gods of fire . . . what a human form. Coal black hair reached down his back, sweeping around his narrow hips. Because he was a battle-dragon, his hair was shorter than the royalty he protected. He also had scars. Lots and lots of scars, some in the most interesting of places. One brutal scar was right by his eye. Oh, and his eyes . . . black like his hair. Dark and fathomless, glaring at her from under black brows. But his body . . . she never thought of human bodies as all that pleasing. Especially the male ones. Until now. All those muscles and those big strong shoulders. Everything about him was perfect. His face, his body. His scars.

She stared at him as he marched over to her, forcing her to back up against the cave wall. She winced, the rocks pricking the soft human skin she’d begun to detest. She felt weak, defenseless.

How do you humans live like this?

“Tell me, Princess, do you really think someone is coming here to rescue you from me? I am all you have. Even your mother has deserted you.”

“She deserted me a long time ago.”

It seeme    d like his naturally hard expression softened a bit at that. “I know she did. It hurt you.”

She gave a short, cruel laugh. “Nothing hurts me, Low Born. Absolutely nothing.”

“How is that possible?” And for some reason he sounded as if he truly cared about her answer.

“When you stop feeling anything, you find it quite possible.”

One big hand cupped her cheek. “I have no desire to hurt you, Princess. But I do want you to feel. I want you to feel everything when you’re with me.”

Rolling her eyes, “Oh, please, Low Born. Don’t try seducing me.” Planting two hands against his chest, she shoved him back and moved away from the wall. “I’m not a child. I’ve been seduced by the best.” She looked him up and down. “Those of royal blood. And it pains me to tell you that you are sorely lacking.”

He leaned back against the spot she’d just vacated, his arms crossed over that gorgeous chest. “Does my lack of royal blood truly bother you?”

“No. It insults me,” she answered honestly. “Are you the best my mother could come up with? I’m not some table scrap to be tossed off to her favorite battle dog. I am of royal blood. The daughter of a king. To be quite honest, I deserve better than you. Now, Low Born, you’ll escort me to the closest exit.”

He moved so fast, she didn’t have a chance to jump, much less run. His hands slipped around her neck, holding her in place. She thought he’d try to choke the life from her—unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the first time that had happened to her. Instead, he towered over her, staring down into her face. His black eyes locked with hers.

“When I’m done,” his low voice said softly while his face still looked so intensely . . . cranky, “you won’t be able to imagine your life without me. You’ll pine for me, wanting me like you’ve never wanted anything before in your life. You’ll miss me when I’m gone and desire me when I’m right beside you. No other male will ever be good enough. No other male worthy of taking this body and bringing it and you pleasure you’ve only dreamed of. And when you’re coming and screaming my name, begging me to keep you as my own, I’ll Claim you. And your heart and soul will belong only to me. But until that time, princess, you’re not going anywhere.”

Then he released her and walked away.

She waited until he was far enough away so he couldn’t hit her and said, “Oh, yes? You and what army?”

He stopped walking, looking over his shoulder at her. Unable to meet his gaze, she rubbed her eyes with one hand and sighed. “Well that came out terribly wrong.”

Chapter 2

Bercelak dropped the cow carcass on the ground and stared at it thoughtfully. Now, if Rhiannon were dragon, he’d merely sear it and they’d feed. But with her being human, at the moment he’d have to adjust. At least until she got her powers back.

So, using his talons carefully, he removed the animal’s hide, tossing it aside. Then he put the animal on a spit over the pit fire. He chose some of his best and most precious herbs—obtained from the Desert Lands of Alsandair—and seasoned the cooking meat.

With a sigh, he sat back to watch the flames and think.

Princess Rhiannon was definitely as mean as he remembered, and it only made him want her more. Not surprising. Dragon males liked their females dangerous. It made the mating that much more interesting and intense. Of course, her calling him “low born” was beginning to grate on his nerves.

No one had to remind him of his father.

The other dragon warriors he fought with never understood why Bercelak didn’t flinch during battle. Never showed any signs of fear or panic. If they lived the way he had, they wouldn’t either. But until you were awoken in the middle of the night with, “We’re under attack!” and thrown out of bed by your well- meaning but clearly insane father, you didn’t know what fear was.

His mother was of royal birth. His father . . . not so much. Which meant no one handed Bercelak a damn thing. He worked for everything he had and he did it with one thing in mind. Crystal blue eyes, long white hair, and a snarl that could scare an army of demons.

The day he met her—when those gorgeous blue eyes locked on him with such hate—he knew he had to have her.