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daughter of the dragon

Book 6 of the True Mates Generations Series

 

CHAPTER TWO

The humungous beast’s wings spread wide as it flew, shadowing most of the city below. Such a sight would have brought fear in the hearts of anyone, but in Zhobghadi, The Great One’s form overhead brought comfort to its citizens, knowing their guardian was watching over them.

The long, spiked head stretched and opened its great maw to let out a deafening roar. Leathery wings snapped in wind as it swooped low, turning gracefully before heading back in the direction of the capital city, toward the largest structure in the entire country—a massive palace made of dark brown brick and decorated with gold. Near the topmost tower was a colossal balcony, big enough for the great beast to land on. But it was not scaly, talon-tipped claws the size of elephants that landed on the tile, but completely human ones.

“How was your flight, Your Highness?”

Prince Karim Idris Salamuddin took the offered robe and wrapped it around his naked, heated body. “Tiring,” he grunted, then shook his head. A prince of Zhobghadi would never say that. He could almost hear his father’s voice in his head chastising him. A prince should always act confident, commanding and never show any sign of weakness.

However, he was talking to Arvin, his older cousin and most trusted Vizier, and possibly the closest thing he had to a friend growing up, so perhaps some informality between them was permitted.

“I don’t know how your father did it, at seventy-five years of age.” Arvin shook his head. “He was doing it up until—”

When his cousin stopped, he continued. “Until last year.” Before his untimely death. “I don’t know either, but you know the old man was stubborn as a camel.”

It was important work, his father had said. It is my duty as their king and the bearer of The Great One to reassure them that our enemies will never defeat or capture us.

It had been a millennia since any threat had come close to taking over Zhobghadi. Still, tradition was tradition. Since the first time the sand storms came, every year the king calls upon the beast residing in his body to protect the city, flying overhead from midnight until dawn to scout for enemies. It was the will of the gods, of course. For they were the ones that sent the Easifat—the sand storms—to form a magical protection over the city as well as blessing the royal family line with The Great One.

Karim guffawed. Blessed. Right.

Of course, no enemies had ever come back since that first time, a thousand years ago. And as civilizations rose and fell, no other nation enslaved Zhobghadi, so perhaps the it was only right to keep up tradition as thanks to the gods.

But, it was a bloody exhausting tradition. And today was only the first day of many. How he wished he was back in Scotland with his friend. Duncan MacDougal had welcomed him, despite the unexpected visit and his own troubles. Karim had to chuckle to himself thinking of Julianna Anderson and what a merry chase she’d be leading his erstwhile playboy friend. He wished them both well, as he had a feeling that Julianna was definitely Duncan’s match.

“You did well,” Arvin noted as he gestured for them to head inside. They passed through the large, arched doorway leading into the living area of Karim’s suite of rooms. “Your father would be proud.”

Karim sorted as he walked over to the side table and poured himself a glass of water from a brass pitcher. “I’m sure he would have some criticisms. Perhaps my flight path was not efficient. Or I hadn’t changed fast enough. Or I took too long.” He took a long swig of the cool liquid. Of course no one was harder on Karim than himself, even though it had been less than a year since his beast was unlocked and he assumed The Great One’s full form. Despite the fact that he had shared his body with an animal his entire life, the transformation could only be completed once the previous bearer passed away. It was an unwieldy body, and he sometimes still struggled to control it.

“And is that why you haven’t taken the throne? Because you think he would have criticisms?”

The glass was still on his lips, but he stopped swallowing and slowly put the glass down. “Only you would say such things to me.”

Arvin grinned at him. “Of course. I’ve known you since you were in diapers.” He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his dark eyes as Karim. “Well? You didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s not.” He gestured toward the door. “The throne lies empty and you are the Crown Prince. Therefore, it’s only logical that you take your rightful place as king. It’s not right, during this holiest time of the year that you are the bearer of the Great One and—”

As if on cue, the beast—The Great One, as the people of Zhobgadhi called it—roared inside him. Heat burned under his skin, and he knew his own eyes were glowing silver, the same color as his beast’s scales.

“And I can do my duties during the Easifat without being king. There’s no need for me to wear the crown.”

“There is every need.” Arvin stepped back. “But it’s not my business. I am only one of your subjects, after all.”

Karim threaded his fingers through his hair. “You know you are more than that. Otherwise, neither father or I would not have appointed you to your position.” As Vizier, Arvin ran the day-to-day operations in the palace, similar to a Chief of Staff. When the old Vizier had retired ten years ago, it was Karim who suggested Arvin for the position and King Nassir had agreed. His cousin had been Vizier ever since.

“And I’m grateful for the honor.” Arvin nodded his head in a small bow. “You only have a few hours to sleep before your first meeting.”

“I’ll be fine. An hour’s all I need.” Indeed, that was one of the perks of sharing his body with the creature. Even in human form, he could draw strength and stamina from the beast if needed, and he could recover from fatigue and injury quicker than any ordinary human. “But I am eager to clean up.”

“How about some food? I can have Ramin bring you something.”

“I’ll be fine. But—” he glanced around, “where is the boy, anyway?”

“He’s hardly a boy at seventeen years old,” Arvin said. “Hmm … he’s usually around here, waiting for you. I’ve never seen a more loyal valet. But I suppose you inspire that in him. He idolizes you.”

Karim let out a grunt. “I should have never let my father convince me to take him on.”

“And what would you have done?” Arvin asked. “Toss him out on the street?”

“Ramin is a ward of the Royal Family,” Karim pointed out. “He could have done anything with his life once he finished his schooling here, like studied abroad or opened a business.”

“Yet he chose to stay and shadow you as as his valet. You know he’s only waiting until he’s old enough to join the military. Then he’s going to apply to be part of The Almoravid,” Arvin said, mentioning the elite guard who protected the royal family of Zhobghadi.

“It is not a glamorous life.”

“Would you blame him though?” Arvin asked. “He only wants to repay you. You saved him from—”

“Bah.” Karim waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “I’m tired. I’m sure the boy will turn up when I awaken.” He didn’t bother to say goodbye to Arvin, but marched into his rooms without a backward glance. It was his privilege, after all, as Crown Prince.

Heading straight to the opulent bath area, he decided against a long soak in the huge tub and opted for a quick shower instead. After finishing his business, he leaned against the marble and gold sink, looking up at his reflection in the mirror. Weary cerulean blue eyes looked back at him. It was an unusual color for a Zhobghadian, but then again he had gotten it from his English mother.

Not liking where his thoughts were going, he turned away and headed back to his bedroom. It was dark and a shadow fell over the enormous bed. Numerous soft pillows formed lumps under the silk sheets, and but the bed was big enough that he found an empty spot where he was able to lay down and stretch out. In seconds, his eyes shut and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

But it wasn’t dreamless. No, he definitely did dream. And what a delicious dream it was—that of curling up against a soft, warm body. Of the scent of something sweet, like the rich desserts he loved as a child, but with a touch of burned sugar. And plush flesh pressed up against his hardening cock. It had been too long since he’d had a woman,[Alicia Mo1]  which was probably why the dream was so vivid.

His dream woman turned, sighing softly. Again, it seemed so real that he could feel the warmth of her breath. Wanting more, he moved his head a fraction of an inch forward, until his lips met velvety ones.

A spark of electricity nearly made him pull back, but the The Great One awoke in him.

More. Mine. Ours.

The voice was alien in his head, but at the same time, not. He’d had the creature—a dragon, his mother had called it—inside him since he could remember, but he’d never heard it speak.

Claim.

Strange, but that’s when he realized it wasn’t a dream.

Still, he could not stop himself. He was like a man dying of thirst in the desert who found an oasis. He kissed—no, devoured—those lips like they were his salvation. And they responded back in kind. Or their owner did. Small hands crept up his bare chest, fingers gripped his shoulders as his tongue snaked out and parted her lips to taste more of her sweetness.

A few women had snuck into his bed before, and usually, he threw out anyone uninvited. But he just couldn’t bring himself to stop. Moving his body over hers, he pinned her to the mattress. She didn’t protest his weight; in fact, she moaned into his mouth and spread her legs to accommodate him. There was only fabric between them, which was probably her clothes as he was naked. His cock strained against her and she gasped.

“What—I—no!”

He blinked, the words making him freeze. Limbs disentangled rom him and he saw a the figure quickly crawled away to the edge of the bed, just as he surged off the mattress and slammed his palm on light switch.

“Who the heck are you?” she shouted in English.

Karim didn’t know if he was going to laugh or shout. “Who am I? I should be asking you that, seeing as you are in my bed?”

“Your … bed?”

With the room filled with light, he was finally able to see the dream—or rather, not-dream woman. Light brown hair tumbled down her shoulders like ribbons of rich toffee. Tanned skin that he knew was soft to the touch. Pouty pink lips that were still swollen from his kisses. But what made him momentarily forget who he was were those eyes—a green so light they were almost yellow,.

“Yes, my bed.” He managed to scrounge up every bit of authority he could muster. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

“I’m—” Her lips pouted and her mouth went wide. Even under her tan he could see her flush, and those light eyes turned away from him. “Uhm, would you mind putting on some … pants or something?”

He glanced down, only realizing that he was naked as the day he was born, not to mention, his erection was practically jutting out like the tower of Babel. Quickly, he grabbed the first thing he could—a pillow—and planted it over his hips. “Now, tell me who you are and how you came here.”

“I … “ She shook her head. “I’m Professor Desiree Desmond Creed, from New York University.”

An American?

“My archeological team and were on a site just forty miles outside the Pakistani border. I was going for a walk after dinner to …” A gasp escaped her mouth and she ran her fingers through her hair. After checking her fingers, she let out a sigh of relief. “I was hit in the head by … I mean, I was injured and then the sand storm came before I passed out.”

Injured? The Great One roared in displeasure.

Opening his mouth, he took a deep breathe. When he focused his sense of smell and taste and ignored her delicious sweet scent, he realized that it was there, tinging the air. The scent of dried blood. Someone had hurt her! He wasn’t sure if the growl that was rattling in his chest was from The Great One or him.

“Then I woke up … here?” She glanced around. “Where am I again?”

“You’re in Zhobghadi,” he said.

“Zhobghahdi?” She cocked her head at him. “But how?”

“You don’t remember how you got here?”

“No … I mean.” Her eyes shut tight. “Maybe … I felt like I was being carried. And there was a long corridor and I thought I saw something silver on the walls shaped like a … snake?”

He knew exactly what she was describing. And the one person who could possible have brought her into his room. “Wait here.”

“Wait? What do you mean—”

Turning on his heel, he didn’t wait for her to finish as he strode out of his bedroom and crossed the living area to the main door. Yanking it open, he barked to the member of The Almoravid standing guard, “Find me the boy and bring him inside.”

The guard saluted him with a fist over his heart, then bowed as he ran down the hallway. It didn’t take him to long to come back, pulling along another figure, and pushed him inside the living room before closing the door with a loud thud.

The boy—almost a man, Karim reminded himself—looked up at him, his midnight eyes growing wide. He didn’t need to ask. The look of guilt was plastered all over young man’s face.

“What have you done?”

Ramin’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his skinny neck. “Highness. I had no choice.”

“No choice?” Karim thundered. “You brought a woman—an outsider—into the city during our most sacred time, and snuck her into the palace using the azdaha passage?” The tunnel that ran under the palace and led out to of the city walls was a secret that only the royal family new about. The woman had accurately described the long mural that stretched along its walls—the first Great One, with its long silvery body—which clued him in on who could have brought her in. “I told you about that passage in confidence!”

“And I have not told anyone,” he protested. “I thought she was unconscious the entire time, your highness.”

“And you brought her here? Why?”

Ramin’s youthful face had turned dark, and it the shadows he thought were banished from his eyes had returned. “She was in danger. I had to help her.”

“In danger?”

“She was being attacked. I pulled the man off her and I took her far away. He … he would have dishonored her the way my mother was nearly done so. Before you stopped that man who murdered her.”

Fury rushed through his veins like the fire and flames The Great One spewed. Memories rushed back from nearly a decade ago. When he had been sneaking out of the palace and a blood-curdling scream had brought him to a house down in one of the poorer neighborhoods of the city. That man—Ramin’s great-uncle—had beaten the boy’s newly-widowed mother to death for refusing his advances. And Ramin had witnessed it all.

And someone had tried to do it to that woman. No wonder the boy went crazy, the memories probably triggering him. By the fires of Gibil, he didn’t even know her name, yet he wanted to burn the world to ashes for what she had nearly suffered. And find that man who hurt her and let The Great one devour him.

“She needed help. Protection.” Ramin gulped and lowered his gaze. “Highness.”

“And so you brought her here.”

“You will protect her. The Great One protects all.” Ramin dropped to his knees. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

Karim let out a string of curses under his breath. Arvin had been right—Ramin idolized him, for getting justice for his mother’s death, for taking him in as his ward and providing for him. And now he thought Karim could save everyone, too. He wanted to laugh. He was a prince yes, and the bearer of The Great One, but in truth, Karim knew, he was no noble protector. He was just another man.

But what to do now?

“How did you find her anyway? She said she was right outside our borders.”

“I was out, highness.”

“Out?” Karim roared. “You know you are supposed to stay in the city during the Easifat! What if the sand storms arrived and you were locked outside?.”

“I made it just in time.” Ramin looked up at him to meet his gaze. “Besides, the Almoravid patrol the borders during the Easifat.”

“They are trained to do so and carry the necessary equipment to ensure they can navigate safely. You are not one of them.” His teeth were gnashing together so hard, he thought he would grind them to the gum. “And you have not gone through the blooding ceremony,” he said, referring to the ritual that all of the Almoravid endured to ensure they could effectively serve the royal family. “You could have been hurt.”

“I took every precaution, highness.” He slipped something out of his pocket—sand goggles that were specially made for sand storms, as well as face mask to cover the nose and mouth. “The goggles allowed me to make my way back and I put the mask on her to protect her lungs while I carried her back.”

“How did you even—Never mind.” Ramin was smart and resourceful, so he wasn’t surprise he had gotten his hands on the special gear. And he had also saved that woman’s life. The woman who was still in his bed, looking vulnerable and at the same time, so alluring. Mentally, he shook his head. That was not the point. “Outsiders are forbidden in Zhobghadi during this time.”

Ramin didn’t say anything, but merely prostrated himself. “Forgive me, Highness. Don’t send me to the dungeon, please.”

Karim sighed. “Get up. Come, you have put us into this situation, and you will help me fix it.”

 

DAUGHTER OF THE DRAGON 

Releases Dec 4th, 2019

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