Chapter Ten

 

Dane hit the cave floor like a ton of rocks, lying silent and still on his back, legs sprawled open, arms at his sides. His mouth was slightly open, his lips pale, his face a waxy white. Though he was fairly light skinned anyway, this paleness spoke of true illness, and it scared her to death. He’d said the wound wasn’t that bad.

Ketera thought her heart would stop. Simply curl up and die right in her chest. Paralyzed, she stared at his inert body. For a moment the weight of all Croan came down upon her, and a million thoughts raced through her. Horror that the big Daryk One lay before her, seemingly helpless. Feral terror that she could be left alone in this unspeakably dangerous place. Dread threatened to overtake her senses, and the cave ceiling felt as if it were lowering inch by inch, ready to crush her.

Then her mind jolted her into action. Dane needs your help.

Fear galvanized her reaction, her concern for him so powerful she instinctively knew what to do. The weed he’d picked on the hill. He’d meant they needed it for poison. She didn’t feel poisoned, but even if poison from the vicious vine still lingered in her body, it couldn’t be as potent as the wound in Dane’s side.

He’s immune to poison, isn’t he? That’s what he’d said, but something told her to use the weed anyway. Just because he was immune to poisons didn’t mean he couldn’t contract an infection. She didn’t have anything to clean the wound, so she’d have to make do. She struggled with his breastplate but managed to work the side of it open enough to reach the wound. He weighed far too much for her to lift him, so he’d have to lie where he’d fallen. She tore the tunic open then reached for the bottom of her own tunic and worked to tear off a strip at the bottom. A few furious yanks separated the fabric from the bottom of her tunic. She balled it up, took the weed and ran to an indent in the rock near the cave opening. She soaked the weed and rag in cold water. Ketera hadn’t a clue if this would hurt or help, but what choice did she have? By the god, she wished she’d taken that medical course her father had suggested. Her hand shook as she lifted his tunic enough to see the wound more clearly. The wound wasn’t bleeding.

“How can this be?”

It made no sense, but the bleeding had stopped. The gash, about eight inches long, looked considerably deeper than she expected. That’s when she noticed something that took her off guard. The wound had already started to close, to heal.

“Magon,” she whispered in astonishment.

Jerking herself out of the stupor, she placed the weed over the wound and then applied the cloth as a way to hold the slippery plant.

She closed her eyes and sent up a prayer to Magon. “Please, Magon, preserve him. Heal him.”

Dane jerked, startling her. She opened her eyes and found his eyes open as well.

“You think a prayer to Magon will work on me? Shouldn’t your god hate me? Consider me an infidel?”

Tears sprouted in her eyes, but she forced them away. “Dane.”

He placed his hand over hers where it rested on the wound. “Thank you, Ketera. Without this, I might not have made it.”

“You’re healing so fast.”

“That’s normal. It’s the damn poison on the poacher’s sword.”

His raspy, weak voice worried her. “Why? I thought you were immune to poison.”

“Poison’s from Magonia, not Dragonia.”

She couldn’t speak, immobile with worry. “Dane, what if…”

“If I die,” he swallowed hard around his words, “if I die, I will see you in the next life. You will still be my mate then, as you have in every life before, as you will in every life from now on.”

With that his hand went limp, and he fell into unconsciousness once again.

Fear hadn’t left her, and as he lay silent, it refused to relent. She couldn’t let anything happen to him. She refused. Poison from Magonia? It made sense. The people here wouldn’t have built up immunity. She held the weed to his side, hoping that it would cure him, prevent him from leaving this life. The only one he had, if the scribes and the god Magon were right. She closed her eyes and willed strength into her body. She had to do whatever it took to save him.

Something angry snapped inside her. She kept the weed against his wound but shook his shoulder with her other hand. “Wake up, Dane. Wake up. Isn’t there anything else I can do to save you? Anything?”

His eyes barely opened, but his lips parted and the words came so softly she had to lean close to his mouth to hear. “Kiss me.”

Once more his eyes closed, and she couldn’t awaken him no matter how often she called his name. She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. Tears poured into her eyes and she indulged them, allowing them to run down her face.

Exhaustion claimed her and she fell into a deep sleep. How long it lasted, she couldn’t say, but when she awakened, she saw she’d kept her hand with the moistened weed against his side. How had she done that? Sheer will perhaps. She felt his brow and found it cool, and when she looked at his wound, it had completely closed. A miracle. It was as if he’d never been stabbed. She allowed the cloth and weed to fall to the ground, and that’s when she saw it. The weed had withered and dried to a dead brown. The white tunic material was red and blackened. Still weary, she looked around the cave and realized they needed warmth. Sunlight had dropped away in the high jungle canopy, and not even the clearing before this cave allowed much sun to intrude. Before long, sunlight would disappear. They’d be left in this jungle with no protection from elements or beast. She’d slept far too long.

She slipped his sword from the scabbard and held it aloft. Heavy. She almost dropped it. Instead she walked to the edge of the cave and scanned the deepening shadows. Time to find firewood. But where? Where could she go without losing her way? She inhaled deeply to calm her nerves. She’d do it. What choice did she have?

Purposefully she eased down the slope, intent on any wood she could locate. Inside the jungle numerous animals called, their deadly intent singing in their voices. Fronds swayed, leaves whispered, the trees seemed to call to her with a drunken, almost sibilant whisper. Asking her to come to them. To be an evening meal.

She pulled her stare from the haunting forest and continued to stack wood around the base of the hill. It didn’t take her long, but carrying the sword and gathering wood wouldn’t work. She returned to the cave and placed his sword at Dane’s side. Returning to the wood at the base of the hill, she made three trips until she’d piled a stack far enough inside the cave it wouldn’t get wet.

Once she’d gathered the wood, she set about building the fire. Thank Magon some of the wood was dry. It took quite some time, but the flames started to flicker, catch, build. She sighed with relief, hoping for heat and protection. As darkness started to descend, a thousand thoughts raced through her head. Worry stayed chief among those concerns. When would Dane wake up? She couldn’t succumb to fear or exhaustion with Dane unconscious. Only he understood this jungle. She could escape the jungle on sheer will, but how much more fraught with peril would it be if Dane wasn’t with her? Fear crept higher. She sucked in a deep breath as she tried to reduce her heart’s crazy pounding.

That’s when she heard the noise. The strange chortling, howling laugh sounded like a demented human. The fire. Damn. Had she made it easy for the poachers to find them?

A bark, a weird and feral noise, came from the front of the cave beyond the fire’s reach. At first she froze. What now? She held her breath, her throat tight. What if the creature wasn’t afraid of fire? She jumped to her feet, bent down to grab a large stick, and hurried toward the fire. If she tried to light the stick to use as a weapon or torch, it would burn down too quickly. She stared into the pattern of light created by the large fire and shivered as she peered into the gloom beyond. Listening intently, she tried to see who, or more likely what, lurked in the darkness. Her heartbeat quickened. Her breath came short. Nothing in her experience on Magonia prepared her for this fear, for uncertainty as biting and sharp as what she felt in her skin, her bones, her heart right this moment. She swallowed hard.

Get me through this and I promise not to complain about my situation for the next hundred years.

She listened intently.

Was that a twig breaking? The sound of a stealthy creature moving closer, stalking with intent to kill? Sweat broke out on her body, chilling her despite the humidity. Once more the crackling of brush, a twitter of sound, both human and beast.

She wanted to scream out, to demand the creature show itself so she could fight. A little voice murmured in her mind. Or die trying.

Then she saw it, less than twenty feet away, peering around a bush.

Brilliant red eyes, as bloodthirsty as any creature she’d witnessed in a nightmare.

Her mouth went as dry as the inhospitable deserts near her home on Magonia. She longed for the safety of her underground home where temperatures both hot and cold were kept at bay and strange beings didn’t approach without a warning system sending up an alarm. She swallowed hard again, her heartbeat feeling as erratic as an injured bird’s wings. She went so still she thought she could hear everything, feel everything, an urge to run screaming through her body.

The creature blinked and moved forward. Slowly it revealed itself.

An abomination of awful proportions.

With a long, skinny head, the animal looked gray, almost reptilian. The snout reminded her of insect-eating animals that roamed the deserts on Magonia. She didn’t see any ears, and the mouth was so small she couldn’t be sure it had one. Four legs and a torso came into view. If given to describe it, she’d make a poor witness. It was hard to describe something so hideous and twisted without wanting to vomit. The appendage hanging between its legs said it might be a male. The front legs were longer than the back and ended in hooves. The mottled skin along the shoulders featured green, red and brown splotches. Aha. A mouth indeed. Her skin crawled.

It moved so fast she didn’t get a chance to scream.

Glad she held the sword in her right hand, she drew it back and made a slicing motion as she yelled in rage and terror.

The sword flew from her hand and found its mark, lodging in the creature’s chest. Growling, the creature kept coming.

She backed up, tripped and fell. The creature stumbled, roared and landed within ten feet of her. Panting in terror, she scrambled backward on all fours.

Something touched her from behind. She screamed.

“It’s all right.” Dane’s voice came as he clutched her shoulders. He squatted next to her, heat a welcome feeling.

“Dane?” Her voice shook. “Is it dead?”

“Dead. It can’t hurt us.”

He drew Ketera to her feet and she turned into his arms. For one sweet moment she buried her face against him, her arms around his neck.

Clinging, she gasped out her next words, “You’re all right?” She drew back slightly and saw his smile, his face no longer pale. “The plant really did its work?”

“Very well thanks to you.”

She sighed in relief and looked at the creature. “What is that…that thing?”

“A branax. Half lizard, half cat, half who knows what. An aberration against even nature. Very deadly. You, on the other hand, are obviously much more lethal.” His face reflected sincere surprise and pride. “You’re a warrior, sprite.”

Her body was racked with shivers. “I do not feel warriorlike. I can’t believe I killed it.”

“You’re sorry?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No.”

Awe entered his eyes and he cupped her face. “You’re a wonderful marvel to me.”

“Why?”

“All Dragonian women are strong, but so are Magonian women apparently.”

She grunted softly. “Only some of us.”

His laugh was soft, amused and teasing. “You’re a beautiful, intelligent, warm woman. But you have the heart of a cellidon.”

She laughed softly and eyeballed the branax with wary attention. “Cellidon? I hope you’re not comparing me to another ghastly creature.”

His laugh was softer still, a husky sound that soothed as well as aroused. “A cellidon is a feathered animal that sails our skies. A rare beauty with a gentle heart. It will defend all human life, even at the cost of its own. Some people even own them for pets because of their loyalty and bravery.”

Tears suddenly filled her eyes as she looked up at him. “Are you trying to own me too?”

He frowned as he brushed the tears from her cheeks. He kissed her nose and his arms tightened. “Never. I would never own you. But you are mine to protect.” He slipped one hand into her hair. “Then again, perhaps it is me who is owned. You’ve saved my life today. Twice, I think. For that you have my undying loyalty forever.”

Her heart constricted with affection and desire, her emotions boiling up in a tangle of sweet feelings and lingering fear. Oh yes, he would protect her if he could. He’d move the heavens and hells to make certain they made it back to Grimnald Castle. Tender feelings swamped her, and she did the one thing she never imagined she’d do before now. She cupped the back of his neck and kissed him. It was a tiny, silly kiss with no fire, and he didn’t have time to respond.

Surprise burned in his eyes, and so did that mysterious and almost frightening red gleam. “Hold that thought. Let me drag away this bag of guts so we don’t have to look at it.”

He released her and marched toward the beast. She held her breath, half afraid the creature would revive and attack. “Dane, be careful.”

He looked back and smiled. “Always.”

He grabbed the sword and yanked it from the beast’s chest, and then with a strength she didn’t know he possessed, he took hold of the beast’s front leg and dragged the carcass down the hill out of sight. By the god, he was strong. A thrill stirred powerful feelings in her chest then straight down to her lower belly. She couldn’t define her emotions or the physical feelings they created. Love? But how would she know? She’d never felt that kind of emotion for a man. She loved her father, and when she thought of him rotting in that prison, it caused a pain so severe she wondered if she could stand it. No, this was different. It felt restless and wrong and settling and glorious all at the same time. It made her belly stir with want. She wanted him to touch her, hold her, kiss her and know her in ways a man had never known her before.

She couldn’t deny it any longer that Dane Charger had stolen her ability to remain detached. When she left Dragonia, there would be a place missing in her heart she knew could never be filled by another man.

In the meantime though, she could have one memory of him that would sear its way into her forever, a brand of love or lust or foolishness. Whatever the texts called it, she wanted to know it at least once.

Dane returned quickly, which was good because her body was still shaking with fear and reaction from their close call. Close call? Hah! Try calls. She couldn’t leave this Magon-forsaken place quickly enough.

Dane returned to the cave and bent down to wash his hands in a large puddle. He splashed his face and the hair around his face became damp. He stood, his big body looking healthy and hardy once more.

He approached her, his eyes warm with that red glow, but this time the color was muted and he looked calm and gentle. “Are you all right?”

“A little hungry. Are you feeling better?”

“Much. Like I said, you saved me. How did you know to soak the weed in water?”

She shrugged. “A happy guess apparently.”

He grinned, and the sexy smile made her loins clench. Warmth filled the soft folds between her thighs and she grew moist. The sight of him so capable and alive made her blood run fast.

He wandered toward her with an ease of motion that took her off guard. “If you’re hungry, we could cook the beast you killed. I hear the meat is tough but edible.”

She shivered. “No, thank you. I’ll wait.” They met in the middle of the cave, barely six inches apart. “You’re alive and well, and that’s all I can think about right now.”

That sexy grin turned cocky and he planted his hands on his hips. “You were worried about me?”

Pride denied it. Her heart demanded a different answer. “Yes.”

Her admission threw him—she saw it in his parted lips and something that could have passed for wonder. Wonder and not his usual arrogance.

“No one, save my parents, has ever cared for me,” he said.

He didn’t sound pitiful or as if he asked for sympathy. It was simple truth. “No other woman.”

He shrugged. “None who ever said so.”

“Perhaps they loved you from afar.”

He shook his head. “Doubtful. Now that I’ve found you, I can only hope that you and I have what my parents had.”

“And what was that?”

“A bond that couldn’t be broken.” He sighed. “My father died for my mother. He gave his life for her and she gave her life for him.”

She covered her mouth for a second, trying to hold back dismay. “What happened?”

“She was outside Grimnald Castle six weeks ago when Drakus Fina and his rogues set upon the place. My father was at the top of a rampart, working. He tried to save her with his bow and arrow. He killed one of the men holding her. The other ran off with her.” Dane swallowed hard. “Father gave chase. It was a trap.”

“Trap?”

“Drakus waited in the jungle and used my mother as a lure. Drakus said that if my father would sacrifice himself to the dragons, my mother would be safe. Drakus despised the fact his mother…my mother, had run off with my father.”

She rubbed one hand over her face. “Drakus was born of your mother, a Magonian. Drakus’ father was a Daryk One who was Dragonian?”

“Yes.”

“And your father was Dragonian?”

“Yes.”

Dread curled up inside her, her throat tight with suppressed emotion. “Your father sacrificed himself to the dragons?”

Dane sighed. “Drakus wanted my mother for a sacrifice as well. Drakus had heard long ago that I’d been born and he was jealous. He’d hoped to capture me as well and throw us all to the dragons.”

“He would kill his own mother?”

“That’s the kind of man he is.”

“What happened next?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“My father couldn’t bear for my mother to be harmed. He offered himself to a dragon willingly.” Dane’s voice turned low, a vibration so deep and yet sorrowful. His eyes had darkened. “My mother was forced to watch. Before she—”

He cut himself off, sorrow etched in his face.

She took the first step and the next, not certain what would happen but fairly certain it would change her life forever. She reached for him, touched his face. “She what?”

“Before anyone could stop her, she ran into the dragon’s path and was killed. You see, my father was her true mate and not Drakus’ father, and her son had just committed a heinous crime. My mother’s remorse and sorrow forced her into the jaws of the dragon as well.”

She leaned into him as his arms came around her. “Oh Dane. That’s awful. I’m so sorry. Your own brother caused their deaths.”

He closed his eyes, and she absorbed the sensation of his muscled body as she pressed against him. “I understand now why you didn’t wish to tell me. But you…how awful for you to lose your parents that way.” She smoothed her hand over his bristly cheek. “Do you hate Drakus for it?”

Dane’s mouth opened but nothing came out at first. “It depends on what day you ask me. Sometimes I hate my father and mother for leaving me. For leaving me and not trying to save themselves. Other days my hatred is all for Drakus and his evil heart.” Dane pulled her tighter against him. “Right now all I want to do is forget. Here. Now.”

Her heart thundered in her ears as she leaned into every inch of his hard, hot body. Muscles rippled, and she closed her eyes a moment to savor the feeling. Before he could speak, she cupped the back of his head and stood on tiptoes to reach his mouth. She slid her lips over his. A groan left Dane, a hungry sound that growled low in his throat. Immediately he took control, his mouth urgent, tongue plunging deep to caress. They fell into a rapture she couldn’t believe, a lightning-fast explosion. Her mouth seemed meant for his as their hands found sensitive places to caress. His palms made perfect acquaintance with her butt, squeezing. He slid his hands under the waist of her pants and cupped naked flesh. Light and hard, caressing and hard, he painted his touch upon her. Her hands raked through his hair, felt the silky, thick texture with genuine enjoyment. A moment later he shoved her shirt up her body, and his tongue and lips latched on to her nipple. As she gasped, his tongue circled flesh and the sensation tingled. Sucking strongly, he pulled at her nipple, tasted it while he tugged the other tip between finger and thumb. Each swirl of his tongue, each gentle pull of his fingers caused a startled moan to leave her throat. It was all too much, too sudden, yet not quick enough. She wanted more. Had to have more.

He backed her against one wall, and the coldness shocked her. With one swift movement he lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me.”

When he lifted her, she did as he asked.

Ketera moaned against his mouth, desiring nothing more than to discover the greatest mystery with him. Their breaths mingled as one, and she fell into the moment with enthusiasm. He pushed his cock against her center in a gentle back and forth motion. Pleasure heated her body. She twisted to get closer. Moving her own hips, she started a cadence. She recalled a scene like this illustrated in the forbidden texts, and wondered if they were about to enact it in full.

Caught up in a never-ending delight, she fell into it, followed his passion and needs with perfect understanding. His cock continued its gentle assault. Her head fell back as she moaned, reaching for that illusive pleasure that had touched her before. She wanted it. Wanted to give him the same delight.

Before she could voice her desire, he whispered in her ear, “Come for me, Ketera.”

He’d asked her, demanded of her that she come before, and this time the added pleasure his words gave pushed her closer to the edge. She writhed, aching deep inside and wishing there was more. More of this. More of everything. She whimpered, gasped for air as he moved his hips. Her hands moved over him frantically, searching his muscle and power. She thrived on his masculinity and wanted him with a surge of desire she didn’t know she’d possessed. Her hands scraped over his shoulders in an attempt to hold on to her rocking world.

He returned to tormenting her breasts. On and on he sucked her nipple, causing an arousal that threatened to undo her one thread at a time. With gentle sweeps of his fingers, he tested her other nipple between his fingers. She grabbed his head, stuffed her fingers into his hair and hung on for dear life.

“Dane, oh—” She gasped.

He moved to the other breast while tormenting the one he’d just loved with swift brushes and tugs of his fingers. She wriggled, eager to find the answer and put an end to the torment building inside her. He hefted her higher in his arms.

“You’re so strong.” She barely gasped out the words, amazed and yet delighted.

“Mmm.” The vibration from his throat added pleasure to the sweep of his tongue over her aroused flesh. “You make me strong and hard.”

Power ran through her as she’d never experienced before. She loved that she could make him like this, and in her own small way had command over him.

Dane’s voice went throaty, a low demand. “I want you.”

Ketera managed her next words, but they came out with difficulty. She’d never thrown herself at a man and had never wanted to until she met him. “Then take me.”

He lowered her to the floor and drew back. His chest heaved up and down, and his cock pushed at his breeches. “I can’t.”

Shock kept her silent for a moment. “Why? You just said you want me.”

“You aren’t ready for this.” He used his right fist to tap his naked chest. “I’ve never had a virgin before, and I don’t want to hurt you.” He smiled then cupped her face with one big, gentle hand. “Your first time with me shouldn’t be like this.”

To say he’d startled her was an understatement. She didn’t expect this. She rubbed her arms, a chill going through her. He drew her to his chest and cuddled her close, and she soaked in his warmth. “You’ve pursued me so relentlessly I thought for certain you’d want me when I offered myself.” She looked up at him, frowning as she thought of something. “Is that the real reason you aren’t taking me? Because I offered myself?”

He smiled. “No. My motives are true.”

She nodded, trepidation keeping her silent for a few moments.

Her body ached for more. He released her and started to pace the cave. Clearly not having her was taking a toll. Long moments went by, the only sounds his heavy breathing and the scuff and thump of his boots against the ground.

Finally she asked, “Does Drakus realize you’re his half brother?”

Dane sighed. “Yes, Drakus has always known. Though he’s a Daryk One, he’s always lived in the jungle with his father and grew to despise me because of the lies his father told about my mother.”

“His own mother a Magonian but he wants to hurt us.”

Dane shook his head. “Sprite, I know that the only way Dragonians can survive is if we breed with Magonians. We need each other, but the complications are thick.”

Curiosity overran her mouth. “Do you think that’s why you’re attracted to me? Because you’re half Magonian?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I was attracted to you from the moment I saw you on the beach, from the moment I held you in my arms. I remembered my father explaining many years ago that Magonians and Dragonians are not so different, and when it comes to mating, we’re the same in body if not in tradition.”

“But Magonians are not so wild. Not so free.”

“That’s only because of what Magonians are taught from birth to restrain their true natures and limit what they really feel. Given freedom, a Magonian is as wild as any Dragonia. You know that.”

She did. If living a short time on Dragonia hadn’t proved it to her, nothing would. “I killed two men. I killed a beast.” Tears rose in her eyes again. “I cannot believe I did that.”

Pain flickered through his eyes, and she wondered how she ever could have believed him her enemy. “You had no choice. You did it to survive. You are brave and more beautiful than any woman I’ve known.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and he returned to gather her close. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

”Good. Then you won’t kill me when I tell you a secret.”