Dragons Among Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice) Read online

  He offered her an unapologetic snort.

  “I am far too old for this horseplay.” She half carried, half dragged the girl away from Zayne’s wings, then set her down with a grunt. “And so are you.”

  Emeline gathered her skirts and hoisted herself onto his near shoulder. Heights were never a friend of hers, so she clamped both eyes shut as she felt her way along his broad shoulder. Soon her fingertips grazed the arrow’s shaft, and she slid one eye open to look at the weapon still lodged in the prince’s side. With a grunt and a sharp tug, she pulled it free. A pained roar erupted from between Zayne’s fiery lips.

  “Aim your fire elsewhere, beast.” She chucked the bloodied weapon to the ground. “’Twas not I who shot you.”

  Slowly she made her way back down and breathed a sigh of relief. Then she bent to drag their unconscious guest off the prince’s pinned wing. “Though if you make a habit of stealing female peasants from our rival land, I may do just that.”

  * * * * *

  Queen Helena stood beside her bedroom window, watching the sun fade into oblivion. Another day had passed and still no word. Berinon had promised results, had spoken the prophecy, and yet here she was, left wondering still.

  “Beg your pardon, Your Majesty.”

  Helena turned to find her handmaiden standing just inside the door, the girl’s wide, brown eyes apologetic. “What is it, Thomasina?”

  “A scroll for you, my queen.”

  Helena’s skin pricked. Deliveries to the castle at this hour were unusual. Ones addressed to her rather than the king rarer still. She smoothed a hand over her thick, full skirt and applied the proper amount of concern to her countenance. “By all means, bring it here.”

  Skittish as a mouse, Thomasina crossed the chamber and placed the scroll in her queen’s outstretched hand. Then she curtseyed and took several small paces back to await further instructions. A good girl, this one. Helena shifted her gaze to the glossy red wax seal stamped upon the rolled parchment and brushed a trembling finger across its intricate design. Had her plan been discovered? She drew in a deep breath and opened the scroll. Three words greeted her:

  It is done.

  The queen’s breath caught in her throat.

  “I-is everything all right, my lady?”

  “News from my mother about the prince’s upcoming wedding, is all,” lied Helena as she moved to toss her message into the fire. “Fetch me my cloak, dear girl. I wish to take a walk in the gardens.”

  The young girl cast a nervous glance out the window at the darkening sky. “At this hour, Your Majesty?”

  “Aye.” Helena’s gaze remained fixed upon the glowing red embers devouring the news she’d so desperately desired, fighting against a new set of fears instilled in her heart. “I believe some fresh air will do me well before I retire for the night.”

  “As you wish.”

  Chapter Three

  Addie runs alongside a field of endless green, watching the fluffy white sheep that dot its hillside. A black car veers toward her, and she tumbles down a roadside berm. Down, down, down. A dark, damp forest appears out of nowhere. Snarling wolves lie in wait to greet her. She turns to run and steps in a snake hole; her ankle twists painfully. Scared and hurt she cries out for help. In an instant, it arrives—not in the form of a man, but an enormous golden dragon with talons the length of her forearm…

  Addie’s eyes snapped open. To her great relief, she found she was no longer outdoors and no monsters loomed before her, poised to strike. Instead, she was in a dimly lit room. The scent of burning wood tickled her nose, and as she sat up and rubbed her sleep-bleary eyes, a large, stone fireplace came into view.

  But her hotel room didn’t have a fireplace, did it?

  Her gaze shifted from the red and gold flames dancing in its grate and fell upon a slender, intricately carved wooden column nearby. She leaned forward to take a closer look, then froze at the realization that she sat atop a four-poster bed. Panic seeped back into her chest. She knew for certain her room at the Jurys Inn didn’t have a bed like this. But if the wolves hadn’t made off with her, then who had?

  Wait, hadn’t she been talking to an old woman earlier? Before she’d seen—

  No, Addie told herself and rubbed her forehead. There hadn’t been a giant golden dragon, nor had one carried her from the woods. She must have hit her head harder than she thought when she took that tumble to be thinking crazy thoughts like this. Someone must have seen her fall and brought her here to make sure she was okay, though that seemed a bit excessive. Back in the States, a dozen people would have done nothing more than whip out their cell phones and dial 9-1-1 as they kept driving. Maybe in England they were a little more old-fashioned when it came to caring for the injured.

  Old-fashioned is right. Addie scanned the rest of the room. Large woven prints hung on the walls, depicting lush rolling hills and grand towering castles. The room’s furnishings were sparse and simple in design: a wingback chair, a chaise lounge, two bookcases, a small side table, a nightstand. Flickering oil lamps cast muted pools of light around the space.

  Wait, was that a bearskin rug on the floor?

  Addie shrank back from the foreign surroundings and tugged at the heavy quilt covering her, then bit back a cry of alarm as she realized for the first time she was dressed in unfamiliar clothes. Though her jogging attire was still in place, long, sheer sleeves now covered her arms. A quick peek under the covers found that the fabric extended well beyond her knees as well. Was this a nightgown?

  She gulped in a deep breath and tried to make sense of it all. Maybe whoever ran her off the road was older, conservative? Perhaps the woman hovering on the fringe of her memory?

  Yes, that could be it. Maybe that woman and her elderly husband had been uncomfortable with Addie’s tank top and running shorts, put a nightgown on her, and brought her here until she awoke. That sounded much less threatening than the alternatives she’d started to consider. At least her overly helpful rescuer had had the decency to leave her jogging clothes in place.

  Still, the whole thing was a little too creepy by American standards.

  Footsteps and muffled voices drifted in from beneath the room’s door. Not yet ready to face her rescuers—or whatever they might truly be—Addie scrambled to lie back down and play unconscious awhile longer. A moment later, the door creaked open.

  “Listen to me,” said a low, deep voice sounding nothing like that of a little old man. “It was different this time. She was different.”

  “’Tis what you said with the last one, sire. And the one before that.”

  This second voice was the one Addie had hoped to hear—it belonged to the older woman. If only she could remember more about her…

  “She was cornered by a pack of wolves! What would you have preferred I do? Leave her to perish?”

  The man’s silky, rich voice washed over Addie. The kind that could soothe even the most frayed nerves with the right mixture of words. As it was, his words made her pulse quicken. The wolves had been real?

  “If it would have spared you from needless injury? Then yes, yes, I would have preferred that course of action. Entirely.”

  Someone shuffled closer to the bed, and Addie felt the covers being pulled higher upon her shoulders.

  “When did you grow into such a cold, heartless woman, Emeline?” the man asked with a chuckle from across the room.

  “’Tis what happens after spending a lifetime tending to young, reckless, warmongering princes like yourself, sire.” Emeline stepped away from the bed.

  “Bah, this was no act of recklessness. This was…”

  “Different?”

  Now it was Emeline’s voice that carried a teasing tone, but the man—the prince, as she’d just called him—didn’t immediately respond. It was killing Addie not to sneak a peek at them both, but she didn’t dare move. A floorboard creaked beside her, and the scent of cloves tickled her senses. Cloves and…pure man.

  “Never before has the change co
me over me without warning.” His voice was soft as velvet. “As though I had no choice but to protect her.”

  The stranger leaned closer and trailed a gentle hand along her cheekbone, leaving a path of warmth in its wake.

  “Well, protect her you did, and she can thank you for that on her way out.”

  The floorboards creaked again as he rose and stepped away from the bed. “We shall not cast her out the moment she awakens.”

  “We can and we should,” said Emeline. “This could be a trap, my lord. Remember, you were not the lone archer in the forest today, and longbows are never used for hunting small game.”

  “So I startled a woodland peasant? It hardly means—”

  “It means everything, my lord. Your father will be furious when he hears the news. And what message do your actions today send to King Jarin? Or Princess Rosalind? You should no’ be gallivanting across the countryside with—”

  “I will deal with Rosalind when the time comes, as I have pledged to do,” he said, the words clipped. “Until then, you can hardly say my speaking to this fair maiden is gallivanting.”

  “’Tis what your talks often lead to,” the older woman muttered.

  The prince issued a soft snort as their footsteps moved toward the door. Its hinges creaked as it was opened and shut, then the thick wood muffled the sound of their footsteps once more.

  Addie breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be done pretending. She opened her eyes and stared at the bed’s canopy, debating what to do next. The masculine scent of her host still lingered in the air, toying with her imagination. If he looked half as appealing as that smooth, rich, velvety voice had been…

  A shiver of delight zipped down her spine at the possibility.

  Too bad she didn’t plan on sticking around to find out. No way was she going to sit around and wait for Prince No Name to waltz back in and start gallivanting with her or whatever he planned to do. She needed to get back to her hotel and prep for tomorrow’s photo shoot with the Watford Soccer—no, Football was what they called it over here—Club. Addie hadn’t flown across the Atlantic to take a social detour, potential royal hottie or not. This gig was her chance to make a splash on the international scene, and no way was she going to blow it.

  The room was darker now, most of it in deep shadow as all but the nearest oil lamp had been extinguished. Flames danced lower in the fireplace, their glow unable to compete with a swatch of pale moonlight streaming in from a window she hadn’t noticed before. Addie smirked. She’d had plenty of practice shimmying out windows in her high school years. So long as this place wasn’t over two stories high, she was only a few steps away from being home free.

  Or England free, anyway.

  She eased herself from the bed and winced as her right foot touched the floor. Stupid snake hole. Then again, if she hadn’t been running for her life through the forest earlier, she never would have stepped in it. At least, that was how she thought she’d twisted her ankle. Right now, she barely knew which way was up, let alone which parts of her recent memories were real or dreams.

  Like the dragon.

  She rolled her eyes and reached up to rework her ponytail. Of course there’d been no dragon. This wasn’t Disneyland, for crying out loud. And unless the Loch Ness monster had sprouted wings, she doubted any other legendary monsters were flying under the UK’s radar.

  A light breeze drifted in from the nearby window, rustling her snowy-white, floor-length nightgown. It really was pretty, far more beautiful than anything she usually wore to bed. But beautiful or not, it had to go—she’d stand out like a sheeted ghost on Halloween under the moonlight in that thing. With a sigh, she carefully tugged it off and left it neatly folded at the foot of the bed. Now if only she could find her shoes…

  A noise sounded from deeper within the building, and Addie ducked low to the floor. While there, she peered under the bed for her beloved purple Sauconys. After a moment, she spied them on the floor next to the bed’s other side. Still crouched low, she hobbled as best as she could around the foot of its mammoth frame. But when she reached the place where she’d expected the shoes to be, they weren’t there.

  What the hell? Addie squinted into the shadows around her. How far away had they really been?

  “Looking for these?”

  * * * * *

  Zayne watched with amusement as Addie’s crystalline gaze flashed to the odd slippers dangling from his fingers, then slowly shifted to his face. Even here, in the shadows, the sight of her took his breath away. Emeline insisted the girl was nothing more than a peasant sent into the woods as bait to lure him into a Forathian snare. But no peasant he had ever encountered possessed skin so perfect or golden hair so smooth and long. She rose to stand before him, her pale skin angelic in the moonlight, and the scent of wildflowers and honey nipped at his senses. His gaze trailed uninhibited over her trim yet supple body, dressed once again in nothing but her unusual yet gloriously minimal undergarments.

  An angel in devil’s clothing.

  “What are you doing with my shoes?” Her voice was low and unsteady.

  Shoes? What an odd word. He held up her slippers and fought to keep a smirk from his face. “These? Why, holding them, my lady, nothing more. I feared for your safety and so removed them from your path.”

  “Uh-huh.” The blonde vixen’s eyes narrowed. “You knew I was awake?”

  “Aye. You blushed when I touched your cheek. I knew it would be but a matter of time before you magically awoke.”

  “And yet you let Emeline leave,” she said. “Why?”

  “Perhaps I wanted to have you all to myself for a moment.”

  Her eyes widened a fraction. Addie took a step back, sucked in a sharp breath and quickly took another. “I see.”

  She shifted her gaze from his and swept it across the room toward its lone window, feigning interest in the chamber’s furnishings. She was bold, this one. Perhaps that was why he felt inexplicably drawn to her. The feeling was both new and infuriating at the same time.

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you,” he said. “Even if you survived the fall, there are things lurking in the neighboring woods far more dangerous than I.”

  Her gaze shifted back to him. “Look, I don’t know who you are or how I got here, but if you’ll give me my shoes, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

  “But you are not in my hair.” He took a step forward and wished very much that she was. “Nor am I quite ready to let you go.”

  Addie held her hands out as though he were a charging horse she was trying to slow. “Look, buddy. I appreciate you and Emeline taking care of me this afternoon and all, but it’s been a long day and all I really want is to get back to my hotel and forget this day ever happened. So just give me my shoes already, will ya?”

  “Leaving tonight is out of the question.”

  She stared at him, appearing dumbfounded. “Why’s that?”

  “Because, you are being held for questioning on order of the royal family.”

  “The royal family? But why? What have I done?”

  Her perfect brows knit together. Zayne struggled not to reach out and try smoothing them back into place. Because if he touched her face again, a kiss was sure to follow. And with a kiss…

  No, not yet. Questions had to be asked to ensure she truly was no spy. While he had little doubt of her innocence, Emeline would hound him no end if he couldn’t prove that was truly the case. Zayne set the slippers beside the fire, then began pacing the room, walking in slow circles around his guest.

  “You endangered the life of their heir apparent today.”

  Addie spun to face him. “But Emeline was the only person I saw this afternoon.”

  He quirked a brow at her. “The only one?”

  “Yes, I swear! I was out for a run, and then this car swerved toward me because its idiot driver was probably paying more attention to their cell than the road. So I dove out of the way, but then I tumbled down this really steep hill, and the next thing I k
now, I’m being chased by the biggest wolves I’ve ever seen and then—” She looked away, her cheeks darkening.

  Car? Cell? He longed to learn more about these things, more about her, but she’d grown quiet, unwilling to share her memories further.

  “And then?” he asked, his voice soft.

  She shook her head, blinking to hold back moisture now sparkling in the firelight. “You…you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Zayne sensed the fair maiden’s distress. Though her story to this point made little sense, the embarrassment in her tone was quite real. He reached a gentle hand to tip her feather-soft chin in his direction. “Tell me.”

  She shook her head again, stubborn even now. But why? What did she have to hide?

  “I know you saw another today.” He flashed her the same fiery look he’d set upon the wolves several hours before. In the daylight, the effect would have been diminished by the sun’s warm rays. But in the current darkness of this guest room, the glow of his eyes would be impossible to miss. “Because I was there.”

  Awareness dawned upon Addie’s face as her eyes widened. “No,” she breathed. “No, it…it can’t be.”

  Zayne lifted his shirt to reveal the blood-soaked bandages wrapped tight around his midsection. “I assure you, it can and it is.”

  Chapter Four

  Addie stumbled backward, unable to look away. His eyes…they were glowing. And not a reflection from the fire glowing, but glowing glowing—just like the eyes of the giant golden dragon that had swooped down between her and the wolves.

  It was all too much. She had to get away from here. Now.

  She braced herself for the pain and spun on her good foot, then sprinted as best she could toward the window. Please be on the first floor, please be on the first floor. Addie threw aside the rustic window coverings. They gave way more easily than she’d anticipated, and a two-story drop suddenly came into view. With a startled cry, she pitched forward, utterly helpless. Hands clamped around her waist, and in a blink, the stranger had her back inside, facing him and pinned between his long, lean body and the wall.