She had a choice, which meant she was free. She would die, but she would die free. The thought gave her courage, even if it couldn’t stop her shivering.
The man striding forth from the cave a few minutes later startled her.
She blinked hard at him, taking a quick step backwards. Where did he come from, so sudden like, in the middle of the night?
He stood a full head taller than she did, as wide in the arms and shoulders as a blacksmith. He wore black leather, reinforced with dragon scales in the front. His hair was the dark silk of the night, his teeth gleaming white as he flashed a predatory smile. His eyes, the color of a moonless midnight, traveled over her.
Unfamiliar sensations suffused Einin’s limbs, the invisible flames that licked her unexpectedly in the cool night surprising her. Even her shivering stopped.
The black knight stepped closer while surprise still rooted Einin to the spot. He had a slightly smoky scent, not unpleasant, similar to her father’s when in winter he used to smoke their hams and sausages and bacon. The knight’s features were rough and scarred. His eyes seemed immeasurably old, belying the obvious virility of his body.
He stood very close now, closer than was proper. Yet Einin could not protest, even had she found her voice, being the village wench that she was and he obviously a knight.
A knight as powerful as he… Hope unfurled inside her chest. “My lord, Sir Knight—” She wasn’t sure how to address him. She’d never had the occasion to address a man of such high station. “What have you done to the dragon?”
A smile curved up his sinful lips, lips such as were made to make maidens weep. “I’m one and the same. And I have a powerful hunger to slake.”
Einin was too stunned to move. She could do naught but stare at the dark fires that burned in the man’s eyes.
“I am the dragon Draknart,” he said as he reached for her. “And you are mine, Einin of Downwood, by your own promise.”
Chapter Four
Draknart expectedthe wee maiden to tremble with desire in his arms.
She kneed him in the groin.
“You black-hearted bastard! I’m not here for swiving! I’m here to die for my village.”
While she backed away, Draknart breathed evenly and deeply against the abrupt explosion of pain. The weakness of his cursed human form still caught him by surprise now and then, and it enraged him every time. As a dragon, he was nigh indestructible. His nightly turns as a man were a gross indignity. Although, he hadn’t minded it so much tonight—until the abrupt contact with Einin’s pointy knee.
He breathed through his nose and calmed himself before he spoke, so as not to frighten his amber-eyed maiden. “Why the rush, sweeting?”
She wore britches once again—probably to ease her journey. The hillside was steep in places, the bushes thick and thorny. He took a moment to admire her fine form. If the gods were kind, mayhap they’d see to it that britches would catch on among the young maidens and come into fashion someday. For a moment, he envisioned a world where the lasses ran around in the same tight leggings as the men, and he sighed to savor the image.
Einin eyed him with suspicion and undisguised loathing. “So you’re half man, then?”
“All the man a woman can handle and then some,” he reassured her.
Her expression only tightened. “But before, you were a dragon.”
“I am a dragon. Cursed to take human form from midnight to dawn,” he admitted his great shame. Cursed to be a halfling. ’Twas like a sickness, an insidious disease that had taken over his body. He’d spent a century searching for a cure, but to no avail.
For a moment, she only stared, then her voice grew unsure as she asked, “Old magic?”
He nodded and could smell her unease, a new layer of fear.
Her amber eyes grew wider and more luminous. She eased back another step. “To have been cursed by an ancient power… What have you done?”
Regaling her with old tales had not been among his plans for tonight. However, since she appeared disinclined to disrobe for his pleasure, and because in the slope of her shoulders he could see her exhaustion… Draknart turned and strode into the cave. “Come along.”
He resented his human form, so he didn’t indulge it. A couple of furs on the rock ledge where he slept were his only concession. He turned back before he reached that ledge, pleased that she followed.
The cave was shrouded in near darkness, but his human eyes retained the ability of his dragon vision. Einin’s hips swayed as she moved. She was well shaped, her body likely formed in fights with her brothers and in hard work. Slim but strong arms; lean but strong thighs.
She had the roundest breasts he’d ever seen. He ached to taste her, ached to have her on those furs next to him, under him. He pulled off the dragon-scale reinforced leather tunic he’d donned to dazzle her and tossed it aside, leaving only the linen shirt he wore underneath.
All for her. He rarely wore clothes at all while in his hated human form. ’Twasn’t as if he regularly entertained visitors.
