Kelly Lucille
The Dragon’s Mage
Kelly Lucille
Text Copyright © 2013
Kelly Lucille
All Rights Reserved
To Norma Rice for gleefully buying my
first book,
…and because she’ll get such a kick
out of this.
"All our efforts must tend
towards the light."
Antonio Machado
Morgan was in the
meadow laughing when she felt it. Her eight-year-old brother with the same
dark hair and grass green eyes was buried under two of his sisters. The girls
shared the eyes, but had their mother’s fiery red gold hair that flashed in the
sun. Currently they were rolling about like puppies and shrieking in fright as
Morgan pretended to be a great hernbeast after them. In the middle of tickling
Clare to hysterics, she stopped, a strange awareness creeping up. Something
was coming.
“Danger.” She
said quickly. Her siblings, from the youngest at eight summers to the oldest
at nineteen, all froze and looked to her.
“Up. Quietly.”
She said, “Quietly. Melly can you sense anything?” She was whispering now and
all of them were staying low to the grasses and heading for the tree line.
“Nothing.” Melisande
whispered, Melly for short. She was five years younger than Morgan and six
inches shorter at five feet two inches. She had always been the calm center of
the family. She moved with the rest of them, keeping her head down even as she
expanded her senses. “I don’t sense any danger.”
“Something isn't
right.”
As slow as they
were moving they made small progress but should attract no attention. It
wasn’t enough. She extended her own senses and felt nothing except a prevailing
feeling of wrongness. Something was out there, and coming closer.
“Clare, you and Rhune,
change and head for the hide hole. Small but not helpless. I don’t want a
repeat of the badger incident.”
“What about you
and Melly? I don’t want to leave you here.”
“Rhune is your
responsibility. Go Clare. We’ll be right behind you.”
Clare looked from
her sisters to her baby brother and stiffened her back. She was only 16 years
old and resembled a long limbed colt with her slender form and long legs. She
was young and unfinished still but, like Melly, life had somehow made her
more. She turned to her brother who was leaning against her side.
“Foxes, Rhune.” She
said overly bright. “Stay with me? We’re going to run for the big oak.”
Rhune nodded solemnly.
His little face serious for one so young. Clare looked one more time at her
sisters before she dissolved into a chilly mist and in her place stood a red
fox. Rhune followed, and they took off at a run, silent red flashes through
the tall grasses.
“Are you sure
Morgan? I still feel nothing.”
“I know Melly,
that’s what worries me.” She looked around as she pushed her sister before
her. “It’s getting closer.”
In the past, it
had always been Melisande who felt trouble coming first. She dreamed of their
adoptive parent’s betrayal, and when they ran, she felt the right paths to take
them away from danger. They had come into the wilderness when Rhune was so
small he had to be carried, and Melly a thirteen year old at the time had heard
the wind and headed the call of the earth. It was no small gift. Nor was the
ability that Clare and Rhune had to become any animal they saw. That too had
saved their lives on too many occasions for Morgan to believe it the curse the
villagers feared.
“Someone is coming,
and I think they’re coming for me. I want you to take the long way back to the
others. I’ll make a mist for you to hide in.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll follow
soon. Promise me you will see the others to safety. Listen to the wind Melly,
and you’ll do fine.” The sky darkened and the perpetual spring they had been
enjoying disappeared as clouds obscured the sun.
“We should stay
together.”
“No. I need you
safe. Please, Melly. I feel strange, hunted. Something is taking shape
here. A path I must take. If I'm right, you must protect the others. You’re
the only one who can hear the wind.”
“Morgan.” Her
voice was beseeching, but Morgan ignored it, closing her eyes and setting her
will free. The mist rose, and like a massive fog it covered and concealed
everything so that the sisters could no longer see even each other in the thick
of it.
“Go to Clare,
Melly, now.”
Melly went,
ignoring the tears falling from her eyes. Quiet as possible she walked out of
the glen they had created with their magic. It had been spring here for them
as long as they needed it. Surrounded by white coated winter on all sides, no
one should have been able to survive. Between them, they had kept their own
small patch of sunshine and Morgan had made the flowers grow. The majestic oak
had offered shelter. They had been happy here. Now danger had found them.
Morgan expanded
her senses and felt Melly slipping into the forest to safety. She breathed a
sigh of relief, turning to look all around her she tried again to capture the
essence of what was stalking her. Whatever it was, her blood seemed to be
trying to rise up and warn her. ‘Run. Flee.’ It was all she could do to
stand perfectly still and listen for the sound that would direct her flight
away from the oily danger.
Through the mist
a dark figure rose nearly on top of her, she backed up quickly her hand coming
up, the wind roaring as she stumbled back and to the ground. Her wrist was
caught by a hard-calloused hand, and she was pulled off the ground struggling
against the arms that came around her. The mist cleared away, and the wind
died. She knew that black livery with the dog emblem, knew too, ones with cold
dead eyes that stared with evil satisfaction. Only one kind of creature could
touch her and make her power disappear. It was a creature right out of her
nightmares.
She screamed,
hearing again the cries of her mother and father as the fires burned around
them.
“I’ve been looking
for you.” He kissed her, and she tasted ash. She tried to struggle, call her
power, but nothing happened. Then she felt it. A pulling, as if he was trying
to eat her soul. She tried to scream again, the pain excruciating, but he ate
that too.
***
The creak and moan
of the prison wagon was loud in the early morning quiet. Even at rest, it
groaned like an old man each time someone rolled over or breathed hard. Morgan
had been left with her now grubby shift and a chain for her ankle. The leering
guard made it clear that anything else she wanted would have to be paid for,
and the way his eyes went over her, Morgan had a pretty clear idea what form of
payment he preferred.
The shift was
little enough against the harsh weather, though luckily she still had enough
magic huddled inside her that she barely noticed. At first, she hoped this
meant she hadn't been utterly cut off from her magic; but as many times as she
tried to pull her power, she only managed to give herself head pains.
Changes in weather
never affected her as it did others. She didn’t get cold or hot as a rule, but
the boy/man clinging to her was shaking so bad she was surprised the cart was
holding together. She had realized within seconds what he was, and could only
surmise, given the lack of precautions that the guards had no idea what they
had. She held him as close throughout the night and waited for her chance.
The guard, a big
beefy man that smelled like old sweat, was a little too interested in watching
her to give them the small moment they needed. She waited for him to fall
asleep or go relieve himself. If he would just look away long enough, it would
be done.
Blood and Sex.
Her mother, a mage healer, had said little about dragons the few years she'd
had to train her children in the craft, but she did say they could feed on
blood and sex for healing. Well, she would try blood and hope it helped enough
for him to escape. His life was worth nothing if they realized what he was.
Dragons were killed on sight. Their blood called a high price in magic circles,
but it was nearly impossible to survive the attempt to collect it.
Magnulls had no effect
on dragon magic. Under the circumstances, she couldn’t help envying them that.
When the guard
finally nodded off with the dawn, Morgan found again the rusty nail poking out
under her shoulder. She used it to prick her finger, then bent back to the
dragon.
He should have
looked pathetic curled up in her lap trying to find heat. One of the few
things that could kill dragons was the cold, and that only before they reached
their first adult molt. That would put him at less than two hundred in years,
but looking at his well-defined musculature and the fact that he topped her by
a solid foot and probably a hundred pounds, she figured he was close to the
change. She hoped not too close. He would never survive the transition away
from his own.
Her mother had
been abundantly clear about that. She was not sure what the dragons might
need, only that it was something that could not be found outside Dracon.
If he was not at
the bridge to his adult life then a little magical blood should set him to
rights, at least enough so that he could escape and get himself somewhere safe.
Mage blood was tremendously powerful when given freely and dragons were
especially affected. Her mother had cautioned that the giving of blood should
only be done in the strictest emergency, never lightly; this had to qualify.
Morgan took a deep
breath. If he was truly power-starved, this could go badly for her. But she
would rather die helping someone than beneath the knife of a dark mage. She
pulled his head up from where it lay against her breast with one hand while she
shoved her bleeding finger into his mouth. At the first taste of blood, he
clamped down. It stung even before he bit to hold her finger in place. She
did her best to stifle her whimpers and the nearly unbearable need to shake him
loose. He was taking a lot of blood through one small finger. It wasn’t
enough because he reared back and bit into her wrist. She couldn’t stop the
cry of pain when his teeth sank deep, and it woke the sleeping guard.
“What...” The
guard made the mistake of attempting to pull the dragon off. He was slammed
one handed into the iron bars of the cage. He slumped to the deck below the
dent his head had made. He wouldn't get up again. His head had cracked like
an egg, and the noise had drawn a crowd.
The twenty or so
soldiers that had been left to hold the caravan, while the magnulls went into
town to collect any stray magic users, pulled their swords. The man/boy looked
at the soldiers surrounding the prison cart with eyes of dragon gold. He
dropped Morgan’s wrist with a final lick and studied her through glowing eyes.
She was light headed from blood loss.
“Go dragon.” She
said with difficulty. “Before they come for you.”
“You know what I
am?” He began to change before her eyes. Morgan’s last thought before she
passed out was silly under the circumstances.
He seemed smaller
when he was asleep.
Morgan woke up
with no idea where she was. She lay very still even as she recognized the feel
of a body shivering against her back. She could feel the length of chain
against her ankle, and for a moment she was sure she’d failed. She wanted to
cry for them both. Then she realized the length of chain attached to air, and
this was not the prison coach.
She opened up her
senses and felt magic breathe through her. They were in a cave. She could
sense no one else around. They must have traveled a substantial distance from
the magnulls for her magic to return. How had he managed to carry them both so
far in his sad shape?
No wonder he was wracked
with shivers again. Between the shapeshifting and the flight he must have used
up all the energy he received from her blood. She turned over as best she could
with the dragon holding her in a vise.
Morgan put her
hand up and reached for the magic within her. Fire flared in her hand, healing
the ugly bite on her wrist even as the dragon opened his eyes. They were a cool
ice blue that quickly changed to dragon gold as she watched. His hands
uncurled from her body with an effort and cupped the flame as if he would pull
it into himself. When he was not burned, she upped the wattage and pressed it
into his bare chest. He gasped and arched in pleasure/pain as his body
absorbed the heat flowing from her power. When he had taken all he could, the
excess sunk into the rock beneath him. She halted the flow. He purred and
curled up like a lizard in the sun. He was asleep again, but this time without
the life sucking cold making it unnatural.
Morgan got up and
headed for the cave opening, worried he had not come far enough in his weak
condition. A hand whipped out and wrapped around her ankle before she could
take two steps. She stumbled, almost fell, but managed to catch herself. She
turned; his eyes were open, burning gold under his matted waves of hair.
“You will not
leave.”
Morgan shook her
foot, but he just tightened his grip. “I’m not leaving. I just want to see
where we are.”
“We are north of
the Coban River in the deep mountains. You are safe here.” She tried to hide
her dismay. He had brought her at least a seven-day walk from her valley. On
one hand, there was no way the magnulls would find them, on the other; she was
farther away from her brother and sisters than she had ever been.
“I also need to
use the bathroom and find something to eat and drink.”
“I have prepared
an area at the back of the cave for your needs. Tomorrow I will be rested and
able to fly further. I will find you food. You will not leave my side.”
“That’s...Nice of
you. I appreciate that you freed me, so thanks, but I rescued you first, so
we’re even. Tomorrow you should continue your journey home, and I’ll do the
same.”
He let go of her
ankle to stand up, and Morgan was happy to see he rose easily and was steady on
his feet. At least she was until he stood to his full six-foot plus height and
looked down at her with eyes of power. Her belly rolled dizzily when she got
her first real look at the dragon she had set free.
He obviously
reacted well to either her blood or her fire because all his bruising was gone.
He was young, even in the woven slave trousers and with a filthy nest of hair
tangled to his waist, he was beautiful. From the sharp almost alien angles of
his face to his finely honed body he was, in a word, dangerous. Morgan caught
her breath, fighting the need to step back. Showing weakness to a dragon would
be a mistake. She stood her ground and met his golden stare with challenge.
“How did they
catch you?”
His jaw locked.
“I was betrayed.”
She dropped her
eyes not wanting him to see her compassion and mistake it for pity. She was
all too familiar with betrayal. “I’m sorry.”
His hand gripped
her chin lightly, pulling her eyes back up to his. “How did they catch you?”
She debated
telling him but saw no danger in it, a dragon would never work with a dark mage,
and he needed to know why she was not free to go with him.
“They came to our
valley, and I stayed to give my family a chance to get away. The magnull took
my power, and I was caught.”
His hand tightened
painfully on her chin making her wince.
“Your family? You
had a mate who allowed you to face this danger alone?”
“Oww.” She tried
to pull out of his hurtful grip, but he wouldn’t budge. “I have no mate.” She
said, the angry fire behind her eyes sparking. “My young sisters and brother
are my only family, and it is my duty to see them safe.”
He released her
chin and snatched up a lock of her hair to rub between his fingers. His voice
had lost the anger but not the heat. “I am sorry little one. You are too
young and soft to have such responsibilities. You will be better off with me.”
“What does that
mean?”
“You will not
leave my side, and I will see to your care.”
Morgan opened her
mouth to rage at his arrogance but swallowed it back and attempted reason
instead. “I am a mage. I can take care of myself and my family.” She took a
deep breath and grudgingly added, “I do appreciate your worry for me, but it is
not necessary.”
She stepped away
from him, turning once again, to head for the cave mouth. He grabbed her arm
and pulled her back.
“You will stay
with me.” The grip on her arm was thoughtlessly rough, and she could feel the
heat of his anger building. Like the child he didn’t resemble he was set on
getting his own way. He was not going to listen to reason.
Morgan called her
power and sent it in a flash through the hand holding her so tightly. This
time it was not fire she called, but ice. He released her with a curse, his
hand iced to the elbow. He sent heat pulsing down his arm to combat the cold,
and then narrowed angry dragon eyes at her when he could once again feel his
hand.
“Be careful that
you do not mistake me for powerless. I am no dragon’s plaything.” Her eyes
flashed green mage fire in the dark, her words echoing eerily. “I will stay
with you tonight and feed you again of my blood so that you can make your
journey. But then we will go our separate ways; I will find my family. Push
me on this and I will leave you shivering in the dark.”
Every muscle in
his body clenched at the threat, then released. He pointed a big finger at her
nose, anger vibrating from every cell. “You threaten me?! Then leave. We
will see how far you get without wings to fly.”
Morgan turned and
headed for the exit.
Arrogant Dragon. Like I need his permission!
However, when she
got to the opening her stomach crashed to her toes. They were in a cave that
nature had carved out of a cliff wall. She could barely see the ground from
here and there was not even a single shrub to halt the deadly plunge to the
rocky stone floor. Unless she suddenly developed shapeshifting abilities and
turned into a bird, she was not going anywhere unless the dragon took her.
She felt his
radiating heat at her back before she heard him whisper in her ear. “Perhaps
it is you who will be left shivering in the cold my fierce little falcon.”
Morgan swallowed,
fear causing her chin to jut stubbornly, even as his voice sent shivers down
her spine.
“You will do as I
say. You will go to the back of the cave and take care of your frail human
business. Then you will come back to me.” He nipped her earlobe with sharp
white teeth and wrapped an arm around her when she would have pulled away.
“You will give me the blood and heat I need for the journey, and you will sleep
in my arms, tonight and every night.”
“Wha...” He
stopped her speech with a hand over her mouth.
“No. No
arguments. No discussions. Do as I say.”
She wanted more
than anything to put his arrogant dragon ass down, but it would be foolish. Even
if she could win the skirmish, and she certainly would, where would she go
without him to carry her out?
So fine, she would
do as he said for now, but the moment she was out of this prison in the clouds,
she would take back control of her life. She pulled out of his restraining
arms and headed for the back of the cave. She found his set up complete with a
pile of dirt and a bunch of leaves, joy. When she had done her “frail human”
business, she decided to follow the cave farther back for a bit. While she was
lucky enough to find a small trickle of water, she couldn't chance further
exploring for fear of getting lost.
After cleaning up
as best she could with the slow trickle, she drank what she could get down her
parched throat and headed back.
The dragon was
already on the, now cooled, rock floor. When she hesitated at his side, he
reached up and pulled her down to lay facing him. She refused to look at his
smug dragon face. He pushed the hair off her neck and touched his lips to the
fragile pulse there.
“Do you give your
blood freely?” He asked just above her pulse.
Morgan grimaced,
but she truly had no choice. He needed the blood if he was going to get them
off the mountain.
“I do.” The
tremor in her voice was barely noticeable.
This time he did
not ravage like an animal at the kill; instead, his elongated teeth slipped
ever so gently into her skin releasing the toxins he carried directly into her
blood. She gasped at the stunning heat that coursed from the bite to all her
feminine places. Her nipples beaded, and her pussy flooded with unfamiliar
cream. Then, when he had retracted his teeth from her sensitized skin, he
sucked the blood from her in deep swallows. This time she arched into him,
wanting nothing more than to wallow in him and never stop.
“What are you
doing to me?” Her voice was a ragged plea that he ignored.
His hand burrowed
under her dress to find naked thigh. He shifted until she was under him, her
legs encasing him, his weight pressing her into the ground until she could
barely breathe. She should care about that, but something was oozing through
her blood, heating her up from the inside, as if her power were flowing free,
but in a way she had never felt before.
Morgan could not
think past this blinding need. He shifted, his hands pulling her dress up and
over her head so that she lay exposed before him. She felt his tongue, a rough
heat across the marks on her neck. She cried out at the waves of pulsing
pleasure that caused and mindlessly tried to get him closer, this time flesh to
flesh. Instead, he held her down, his brawny hand spanning her tiny waist entirely,
and looked his fill.
Mages were born
with no body hair besides what could be found on their head and eyebrows.
Morgan was no exception. So when he ran his hand from her throat to her
sweetly curved thigh it was over creamy skin and nothing else.
Her nipples were
painful points in a sea of softness, and he homed in on them, weighing each
breast in his palm and licking and sucking the nipples until they looked just
as he wanted. With a grunt of satisfaction, he moved down and used both hands
to spread her thighs and study her sweet wet pussy.
“Look at what you
hid under that ugly rag.”
Morgan tried to
breathe past the pain of want bombarding her, but it was impossible. “What did
you do to me?”
“You still think
to leave me.” His hand went to her thigh to push it further up on the floor
and he inhaled deeply, his eyes closing in bliss. “I have marked you as mine.
When we have mated fully, you will not be able to leave me. You will not want
to.”
Morgan fought
through the sticky web of desire he unleashed.
What was he saying?
She
struggled with her brain trying to find her way back to some semblance of
thought. No. He can’t. “You can’t mate me. I am not a dragon.”
“You have
surprising knowledge of dragon ways for a human, but you do not know all.” He
moved to his side and yanked her down across the harsh floor until he had her
snug up against him, scraping her skin in the process.
The pain helped to
clear her head even more. “You mate after your first molt, I know that, and
you have not reached it yet, not if you are still passing for human.”
He spooned her
frustrated body, his chest to her back, his leg over hers to hold her in place
and his arm around her waist. His hand cupped her breast as if he had
proprietary rights there. The big bastard yawned. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe the
day after.”
After one drowsy
affectionate nuzzle of her hair, he fell asleep. She could feel the satisfaction
radiating off him, even as her own blood boiled in waning desire and fear. She
tried to shift away, to escape his hold, even knowing there was nowhere to go.
He growled a warning and tweaked her sensitive nipple until she settled.
Morgan lay there
at the mercy of the Dragon and her own betraying body. The heat had faded
enough she could think again, and the fear was quickly replaced by anger. She
would escape, and if the dragon foolishly tried to stop her, she would freeze
his ass to a rock for eternity. Better yet, she wouldn't wait, as soon as her
feet hit the ground she would freeze him in his devious dragon feet. She would
not be a slave. Her thoughts of revenge kept her warm until she finally dozed
off.