The Mountain King

Emma Alisyn

Contents

Acknowledgments

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

The Silver Spider

Stone Lover

Dragon Star

Clan Bear: 10 Steamy Bear Shifter Romances

About the Author

Copyright © 2017 by Emma Alisyn

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Proofreading by Danae Ashe

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Acknowledgments

Thank you to the fabulously detail oriented beta readers who comb over my manuscripts and smack me over the head with all the errors, inconsistencies and boring bits. I don’t know what in the hell I’d do without ya’ll.

Tiffany Rippy

Michelle Hoffman

Christiana Davis

Stephanie Leca

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Chapter One

Kailigh’s youngest daughter was only seventeen. Cinvarra’s dark curls lay limp and lackluster against her damp pillow, face deathly pale, a gray cast to usually golden brown skin, lips shriveled despite attempts to keep fluids in her. A flesh wound that should have healed cleanly was killing her. Once again, Kailigh questioned the decision to remain single all these years. If there’d been a man in the house, he could have stayed with the girls while Kai grabbed her flintlock and blades and hunted the vermin who shot Cin during the kidnap attempt.

Goddamn Ruthus Adjrius. He’d gone too far this time.

Kailigh stared at Doc as he rose from his crouch by the girl’s bedside, shaking his head. He took off the magnifying goggles he used along with tweezers to pick the bullet out of the wound. At least it had been the old—fashioned ammunition, and not a vaporizer, one of the deadliest accurate rifles that shot streams of deadly steam at scorching hot temperatures. Shooters wore special insulated leather gloves to protect themselves from the heated hand-holds—anyone who picked up a fully charged rifle with bare hands lost their skin down to the bone.

Her jaw, already sore from clenching, loosened in preparation to blast the man. She’d paid him to heal her daughter—paid in good garden fresh produce and a bag of coal he could trade for hard currency.

“I can’t help her,” he said. Kailigh’s fingers itched to smack him. Her eldest daughter, the silent one, stirred in response to her mother’s temper.

Kailigh glanced at her, forestalling any violence, then focused on Doc. “I paid you to help her. Why can’t you help her?”

“Listen, Kai, we’re in the Outlands here. If it were two hundred years ago, we’d have a nice sterile office with pretty wallpaper and I could just give her a dose of antibiotics and call it a day—but we just don’t have the medicines anymore for this kind of thing. Her blood is poisoned and it’s affecting her heart. If you could get clearance to take her to a City…”

Yeah, right. The Dome enclosed cities were remnants of the days before a thin haired moron started a nuclear world war, and the inhabitants protected their enclaves zealously. Outsiders were thoroughly vetted, and usually only permitted entrance if they were selling something some rich person wanted. They wouldn’t care about providing advanced medical care to an Outland girl. Especially when she was… different.

But Kailigh hadn’t spent seventeen years raising the girl, training her, threatening every man and no few women with death who looked at her, for Cinvarra to perish from a simple gunshot wound. They hadn’t cleared out of town fast enough once they’d sighted the airbus signaling flesh traffickers were coming. Kailigh had produce left to sell, a weekly quota to meet in order to make her quarterly budget for goods she and the girls couldn’t make or barter for here in town. So they’d waited till the last minute, when Kailigh had known better, and just hoped he wasn’t on board this run.

Goddamnit.

Kailigh closed her eyes, taking a deep, calming breath. “So, I’m supposed to just wait for her to die?”

“Go to Lord Maddugh. He can help her.”

Her eyes snapped open and narrowed on him, instantly aware of his queer tone. “How is that arrogant son of a Fire Dwyrkin supposed to help her?”

Doc frowned. “I don’t understand why you dislike the man, especially since he’s responsible for feeding most of the families around here. Knowing you, I’m sure he hasn’t done anything to earn it.”

Her mouth thinned. No, he hadn’t. But he was rich, powerful, and he controlled the coal mines. And he wasn’t human. The Dwyrkin weren’t all that bad—shifters yanked into this world when the War ripped a hole through the veils between dimensions… or whatever it was. The whole concept gave her a headache. Most of them kept to their small, scattered enclaves. Wolves, pointy eared bastards, stone men with wings, and… dragons. Like Maddugh and his people.

She’d dealt with his human foremen the last twenty years, keeping them at bay, and away from her daughters as they matured into young women. After she’d kicked her ex-husband out on his useless, philandering ass, they’d spent a harrowing year establishing that no, the lack of a male presence in their household didn’t make them prey. A few people had died. She’d even returned some of the bodies to the families. So maybe she just had issues in general, but still—the fire breathing serpent walked like he was a controlling prick, and that was enough for Kai. She’d managed to keep her daughters out of his sight all this time—and now Doc was saying she should just waltz up to the man and ask him for help? And what would the cost of that be?

Nothing was ever free. Goddamnit. For once in her goddamn life, why couldn’t help be free?

“Again, how do you think he can help her? Does he have a store of ancient antibiotics? Some arcane herbal medicine he can give her? Maybe his sheer loveliness will rouse her from her deathbed? Oh, I know! A kiss from a Lord, like in the old tales, will wake the sleeping beauty.”

Her voice cracked on the last few words. Wake the sleeping beauty—except this was no fairy tale. As beautiful as her daughters were—and her youngest outshone the two eldest by threefold—beauty was nothing but a curse in this mountain mining town. Too many men, too few women. But after years of searching when she was a young woman, Kailigh had settled here for good or ill. At least she’d been able to build a cottage, clear an acre of land and use her skills with plants to grow some of the best food for miles around. Food she protected as rabidly as her children—down the barrel of a lovingly maintained shotgun. An antique, the kind of bullets that didn’t cauterize a wound on entry. No, these bullets were meant to fester, to kill inhumanely.

She stared at the gold damask wallpaper, purchased dearly and hung with her own hands, eyes tracing the patterns until she was calm again.

Doc’s expression set as he gathered the few obsolete medical instruments which he owned and painstakingly cared for. He might be limited in what he could do, but he wasn’t a hack or a snake oil herbalist. She trusted that if he said the Dwyrkin Lord was her only option, then it was. But he probably didn’t appreciate her sarcasm any more than any other man would, even though he was a healer and not a warrior.

“Go or not, that’s on you,” he replied brusquely. “Serephone, try to talk some sense into your mother before your sister is dead. If you can’t go to the man who drives the economy of this entire town, then you can’t go to anyone.”

Sere said nothing, but then no one had expected her to. Kailigh realized it was time for Serephone’s twin, Persia, to be home. She’d stayed behind in town as a lookout while Serephone and Kailigh brought Cin home and fetched the doctor.

She turned to Sere after Doc left. “I’m going to see what’s taking Persia so long.” She wouldn’t admit to worry. Persia knew how to stay out of sight, and she’d had orders not to engage, just to cover their retreat in the commotion of the gunfight. Kai hoped they wouldn’t get a visit from the constable soon.

Serephone nodded, jaw tight. Probably angry she couldn’t go, too, but someone had to stay with Cin.

* * *

The deep pockets of Kailigh’s denim skirt held several little surprises Serephone had tinkered with over the years. That girl was damned handy with her tools, and had the ability to go into deep focus at the blink of an eye. Sometimes Kai wondered if her daughter was entirely sane, or if it was just a manifestation of leftover poison in the air.

She went through a quick check of her main rifle, ensuring it was loaded and that the telescope mechanism was functioning. The tiny pockets of her leather corset vest held emergency medical supplies. A disinfectant strip, needle and thread, makeshift tourniquet to staunch blood. Her aurapiece hadn’t been shattered in the fight, which was a blessing. Listening enhancements were hard to come by, and even Serephone couldn’t make something out of nothing.

Satisfied, Kailigh threw a short cape over her leather vest to hide the flintlock, smashed her wide brimmed hat over her head to help shadow her face once in town. She saddled her horse and was half way to town when a figure dropped out of the trees several meters in front of her. It was night, and the figure was slim, but Kai recognized the sure stride, relief welling. She slowed to a walk and then pulled up alongside her daughter, and dismounted.

“Here, take Horse home, I’m going back to town.”

She needed to talk to the constable before the traffickers paid him off, and she needed to know the whereabouts of her enemy. Today was the last straw—they were now at open war.

“Ma, don’t do anything crazy.”

She snorted, handing the reins to her second-eldest daughter and then patting Horse’s rump. It was evidence of Persia’s worry over Cinvarra that she didn’t argue with Kai, she just left. Well, worry and exhaustion. This life wore on the girls. Their eyes were too grim, even lavender eyed Cinvarra, the happiest of them all.

Kailigh jogged into town, staying off the path under the cover of the forest, avoiding buildings where lights were bright and patrons who spilled out onto the streets. It was a mining town, catering mostly to single men and a few families who’d settled here because the work was steady, if grueling. And steady work in the Outlands was hard to come by, if one weren’t a homesteader. One could make a decent living foraging ruins for scrap metal and tech, but the gear needed to protect a person from residual radiation and super bugs was expensive. Not to mention the requirement to carry one’s own water and filtration system, collapsible night time barriers to keep trouble and critters away… she grimaced. She’d tried it for all of six months when she’d been younger. The third time she’d almost died, she’d thrown in the towel. Some people were cut out for that life—Kailigh wasn’t.

Avoiding Stella’s, the saloon her arch nemesis preferred to frequent, and keeping an eye out for his men, Kailigh made her way through back alleys to the constable’s office, and rapped on the back door.

Constable Hatcher opened it immediately. A lean man with a hard face, hair cropped short to fit under the tall, rounded cap with the emblem of his office. “Get inside, Kai, hurry up.”

His tone of voice told her two things. One, he was aware she was in danger, and two, he wouldn’t arrest her unless she made him.

“Sorry,” she said.

Hatcher swore, lowering the setting of the single gas lamp of his scuffed iron desk. “You know Stella wants me to make you pay for damages, right?” he demanded. “What the hell was Cin doing in there, anyway? She’s not of age!”

Yeah, and Kai would lay into the girl when she was awake. “She’s dying,” Kai said, voice soft. “Lesson learned, I think.”

He stilled. “Ah, shit, Kai. Anything I can do?”

She shook her head. She’d ignored an offer of marriage from him years ago. Didn’t want his help then, didn’t want it now. Not that he was a bad man, but Kai knew she was stubborn and hell to live with. But she was tired, and getting too old to keep turning away help because she wanted to prove she could do it on her own. The old anger was wearing on her.

“I need permission to go to war. I need you to look the other way. Ruthus Adjrius has gone too far. How many girls have gone missing over the years?”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, then sighed. “These fucking traffickers. They have backing in the Cities. Seattle is the worst.”

“Something made him decide today was the day. He’s been watching Cin for three years now, but never did anything. I thought he figured it wasn’t worth getting shot.”

“More manpower now.”

Which made all the difference. Kai was one woman with three daughters. But when Ruthus emerged from the airbus today, it was with a shiny new suit complete with fancy engraved sheathe for a rapier, and double his usual guard. He’d found financing. She’d watched from her produce stand as townspeople gathered, waiting on goods and loved ones to disembark. It burned a hole in her gut that flesh traffickers used the innocuous exterior to hide their dirty business. Some unsuspecting mother could be lingering near a vendor perusing cloth or candy and have her young daughter targeted for 'recruitment'. The bolder traffickers would try to follow a girl home and snatch her right before the bus was due to leave—the mother none the wiser. But longtime residents knew. And watched.

“You make this fight quick, and you keep bystanders out of it, Kai.” He pointed a finger at her. “And if anyone files a formal complaint, I’ll have to arrest you.”

Who would? No one had taken on Ruthus because of the possible repercussions. Who wanted their home or business firebombed one dark night? But she wouldn’t live in fear of the airbus anymore.

But it wasn’t only her town, and the Dwyrkin Lord would have to do something about the mess, too.

“I’ll get backup,” she said aloud. “Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Kai,” he said as she opened the back door.

Kailigh paused with her hand on the knob. “Yeah?”

“You know it’s not really my permission you need, right? I don’t own this town.”

No. Goddamnit. Seemed like everything kept circling back to Lord Maddugh. She nodded once, grim, and left.

Chapter Two

“No,” Maddugh said.

The human’s face flickered, going dark before it smoothed into a slick smile. Maddugh regarded him with distaste he didn’t bother to disguise. He needn’t bother hiding his disdain. The mines were his—the mountain was his. If he chose to flame the human where it stood, that choice, too, was his.

“Lord, I don’t think you fully comprehend the magnitude of the opportunity being presented,” Gaston said.

How had he made the mistake of hiring a fool? The man had seemed intelligent, competent even, when Maddugh approved his appointment as head foreman over the mine. Six foremen kept each other busy enough with their machinations, infighting and black market coal dealing to leave little time to conspire against him. It amused Maddugh that his own employees didn’t think he knew they siphoned the fuel and sold it as illegal currency. Insects. Of course, he knew. But once his son had reported back that collapsing the black market in coal would leave several families, including single mothers with children, in dire straits, Maddugh had decided to let it be. There were more important things than profit, or whether his humans thought he was the fool. It didn’t matter what they thought, really—he could choose to eat any one of them and there would be nothing they could do about it.

“I understand,” Lord Maddugh said, cutting off the droning about new investors to the West, and the rebuilding of Denver, of San Francisco, the magnificent opportunity to provide fuel for budding Domes. “I just don’t care. You may not increase production. You will not over mine the tunnels. You’re nearly at forty percent, your casualty allotment for the year.”

“Surely a two-hundred percent increase in ROI warrants the additional casualties,” Gaston’s aide protested. A short, fat man who squeaked when Gaston swatted him upside the head.

“Forgive the interruption, Lord Maddugh.”

He wasn’t inclined to do so. “I don’t think there’s anything left here to discuss. You are dismissed.”

Gaston bowed. Maddugh stared at the top of his slicked, shiny hair, wondering why rich human men liked to adorn themselves with animal fat. His waistcoat was finely made for someone supposed to be supervising one of the filthiest jobs in the Outlands. Maddugh didn’t fool himself to thinking the man had bathed and dressed and perfumed himself in honor of the dragon Lord.

“May I leave these documents with you?” Gaston asked, beginning to place his sheaf of papers on Maddugh’s desk.

“No.”

The man paused, then bowed again, jaw tight. Maddugh grinned at him, waited until they had turned and almost reached the door.

“Gaston?”

He paused, hand on the knob. “Yes, Lord?”

“The next time you bring a human who isn’t house trained in my presence, I will eat him.”

His second son stepped out of a shadowed corner once Gaston left. Blind, deaf, dumb human—the man hadn’t even realized a second predator was in the room, watching.

“He’s the one behind the trouble,” Amnan said, watching the door with slightly narrowed eyes.

Maddugh sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin. “You’re speculating.”

“Yes.”

But it wasn’t heedless speculation. Maddugh had sent Amnan to spy on the mines several weeks ago, after yet another report of minor mishaps reached Maddugh’s ears. He paid workers to report to whom they thought was an outside interest watching Lord Maddugh—but it was Maddugh himself watching. He wasn’t fool enough to blindly trust the humans he had in place to run the daily operations of the mine.

“His goal?” Maddugh asked.

“His goal is what he says it is—to increase profits.” Amnan paused, head tilting. “Men I didn’t recognize were in his office the other day. Not merchants or miners.”

Maddugh smiled, choosing amusement over anger. Anger was dangerous—on the best of days he managed to restrain himself, maintain a jovial, light hearted exterior because it put his people at ease. But he was restless, bored… alone. He wanted flight and fire—an enemy to crunch and chomp.

“Then perhaps he has made promises he must now keep.”

Amnan nodded, approached the balcony doors and pushed them open. “I’ll follow and keep watch.”

Maddugh watched as his son shifted, sapphire scales glittering in the sun before Amnan rose into the air and shimmered, disappearing.

* * *

Amnan waited until dawn and then shifted to his two-legged form and dressed quickly, a little impatient at the necessity of doing so. But the humans were queer regarding nudity—especially the men. The women didn’t seem to mind so much. Hrutha was a sloppy dresser—mainly due to his innate laziness—but Amnan began to understand why.

He strode up the wagon wide gravel path, ignoring startled glances when he emerged from the forest. Startled glances, and slightly angry glances. Expressions even a month ago, a worker wouldn’t dare give one of Maddugh’s sons. They didn’t reveal themselves often, but in the past when they did, the humans had always behaved with appropriate fear. And having witnessed three unknown men enter Gaston’s office, he wanted to see what the foreman would do when directly confronted. If the human was on dishonest business, he would ‘forget’ to give Amnan the names of the visitors.

The office was little more than a shack, but when he entered, he immediately noted the velvet covered chairs and polished wood desk. A side cabinet with a selection of beverages and art on the walls. He wasn’t certain if the plush interior amused or offended him; Gaston had dressed his office to look like a Lord’s.

The foreman rose from his desk. “This is unexpected.”

Amnan’s brow rose. And the greeting was impudent. He surveyed the faces of the three men sitting on the opposite side of Gaston. All well dressed, well fed and slightly spoiled looking.

One frowned. “Who is this, Gaston? We were assured that-“

Gaston looked at the man and smiled. “May I introduce the second son of Lord Maddugh? Lord Amnan. A pleasure. Had I known of your intent to visit-“

“Do we pay you to entertain guests during working hours?” Amnan asked. “Not a criticism—a question.”

“These are business associates, here to discuss-“

“I’ve never seen them, and I don’t care who they are,” Amnan said, voice soft. “They are unknown to my father—get them off our land.”

With that he stepped backwards out of the shack, shut the door, and shifted to dragon form, ignoring the shouts and startled movements as humans rushed to get out of his way. Lifting off, he camouflaged and circled once, using the wind of his takeoff to conceal that of his landing at the back of the shack, and snapped his wings closed. And listened.

“If the Lord won’t relent, maybe we should ask the second son,” a human said. “Second sons are always looking for an opportunity to rise.”

“These are Dwyrkin,” Gaston replied, curt. “They don’t think that way.”

“Do we proceed with the contingency?”

“Be quiet,” Gaston snapped.

“We’re investing-“

Gaston cursed, a string of foul words that caused Amnan to snort.

“What was that sound?” a human asked.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“Gentlemen, I need to get back to work. I have a job I’m paid to do, after all. We can discuss matters later. I’ll have my assistant bring your horses.”

It was then Amnan was certain of two things. One, Gaston suspected he was listening. And two—they were up to something. He watched with interest as Gaston left his office, saddled a horse, and made his way up the mountain towards the castle. Damage control?

Interesting.

* * *

She waited until dawn the night after talking to Hatcher to tell the girls she was headed up the mountain to see the dragon Lord. She’d returned home from town too late to go right away and had spent a restless evening watching Cinvarra, waiting for the first crack of light to appear. Serephone wanted to come with her.

“No,” Kailigh said curtly. “Persia isn’t as good a shot as I am—and she can’t handle a knife at all. She needs you here in case there’s trouble. I’ll run—you girls might need Horse if there’s an emergency.”

When she got back and Cinvarra was healed, Kailigh would see to that gap in Persia’s training. She’d gotten lax over the years—all her girls could shoot passably well, and Serephone was scary with a hunting knife, but they’d grown so accustomed to relying on their reputations to keep predators at bay, that their actual skills were rusty. Kailigh never should have allowed her daughters to remain in town once word came that flesh traffickers were on the way. Her girls were exactly the kind of meat they were looking for—young, beautiful, exotic and virginal. Ish. There was a time or two Persia hadn’t met her mother’s eyes under pointed questioning. But no one had turned up pregnant or infected, so Kai supposed it was all good.

All three of them were raven haired, Cinvarra with her wild curls and bright lavender eyes and the older twins with bone straight hair to their thighs. Serephone's eyes were the color of good aged whiskey and glowed amber in her anger, Persia’s blacker than night except for a thin ring of forest green around the pupil—eerie and memorable. Taller than most human women, and stronger than most human men, they were fast and deadly when riled. And even at seventeen, Cinvarra could hold her own—but she was soft natured. Quiet in speech and shy in manner. Kailigh didn’t have any idea where she’d gotten it from, but she knew the hesitance had nearly cost her baby her life. Cin never should have let Ruthus get a shot in.

Kai could only assume that when he realized he couldn’t capture Cinvarra the usual way, he’d decided to disable his prey with a shot to her thigh. She gritted her teeth, anger spurring her steps. The trek up the mountain was a good one—it would take nearly an hour even at her speed.

Kailigh knew when she was getting closer to the small city the dragon shifters made their home. Hewn into the side of the mountain, only a few humans were ever allowed in at a time, and only on business. The Dwyrkin were never big on tourism. The lack of paved roads leading to their land made that abundantly clear. Outside of the official closed road used for the Lord’s mine and merchants with goods, anyone else had to approach as best they could.

With the urgency of her daughter’s faint breathing in her mind, Kailigh continued at a fast, even jog. She wondered if they would let her keep her weapons, and prepared herself for the likelihood she’d be disarmed when approaching the Lord. If they didn’t disarm her first, they were stupid. The few times she’d glimpsed the Dwyrkin before ducking out of sight hadn’t given her the impression they were stupid.

Built into the side of the mountain, they protected their one exposed side with a wall made of stone. One gate in and out. Kailigh approached, slowing her pace and making sure her hands were loose at her side. The gate itself was made of the glossy, impenetrable wood they exported—for a Lord’s ransom.

A guard appeared from behind a human sized door. No rifle, but a long-bladed stick at his side. Long brown hair and stony expression. Tall, which was typical of the Dwyrkin, and broad shouldered. Dressed in a close fitted dark shirt and trousers, low heeled boots.

“State your business,” he said, giving her the impression that if she didn’t, her business would be stated for her—probably in a jail cell.

“I’d like an audience with Lord Maddugh,” she said. “It’s a matter of life and death.” And she had enough gold notes in her knapsack to make it worth his while. She didn't hold out hope that he’d accept money as his payment, and she wasn’t quite bold enough to offer him his own coal, but… hope never hurt as long as one was realistic.

Chapter Three

Maddugh was bored. The interminable years of his life in this dimension dragged behind him like a chain no saw could sever. After the first few years on Earth, spit out through a dimensional rift cause by the human war, they’d nearly over hunted the areas they’d landed in. But his stone city was built, as close to what they’d had at home, his people prosperous. He’d wrested control of the rock humans prized so much, and the mining of it had made him, and his people, wealthy. They still couldn’t grow food worth a damn, being mostly carnivores and not plant eaters, but they had enough gold from the mine that trading was never much of a problem, except during times when there were shortages in general.

He’d watched his young, motherless sons grow into men. They’d mastered their dual natures as men and dragons that made them Dwyrkin. This existence could be precarious at times, but it was almost never dangerous. And, the only real problem left for him to solve was unsolvable. How could he make his people fertile again? It was impossible. They needed fresh Dwyrkin genes to have more children, and that was one thing they would never get, exiled as they were. Unlike humans, Dwyrkin women had a limited supply of eggs. A handful of potential births, no more, and done. Magical babies were hard to carry to term, and once the eggs were depleted…

They would never again step foot on their land of birth, the gates were permanently closed. So, there would be no more children born—unless the men took humans to their beds, and if they did… well, that would spell their end. For eventually, the dam would break and the strength of their pure dragon blood would fail, and what made them dragon—even what made them a kind of super human—would be no more. But it was accept the decline of their power, or die. And the few times in his early travels he’d encountered a half-blood, he’d had to admit the mix hadn’t been… detestable. They would never be as strong, or shift, but they weren’t embarrassing.

A commotion at the entrance to his hall stirred his attention, a woman’s angry voice. In years past, mornings would be flooded with petitioners, dragon and human alike, but lately it had been quiet. Gaston had showed up again, this time without his aide, and attempted to discuss the very same issue Maddugh was certain he’d already given his decision on. He’d kicked the man out only moments ago. The wide double doors crashed open and one of his guards half dragged, half pushed a cursing woman inside.

She looked around, spotting him immediately despite the cloak of shadow he gathered around him. Interesting. The Fae kept to themselves, and the Bears also conserved their strength for their clans. Some had mated with humans over the years, but dragons had held out as long as possible. This woman reminded him of one of those cross species matings. He rarely used his magic these days—it wasn’t necessary, but he wasn’t so rusty that she should have been able to see through it.

Her eyes narrowed, and she yanked away from his guard. Only the hardness of her eyes and the direct way she stared at him—younger human women tended towards coyness—gave him a clue she wasn’t as young as she appeared, and he’d thought human women aged faster than Dwyrkin. Glossy dark hair bound in a loose braid. A narrow face, the bones reminiscent of his people, her full mouth thinned with her displeasure.

“Maddugh, I want to talk to you,” she said, voice ringing out in the quiet of the hall.

She used his name as if she had a right—as if she had no fear of him, discarding the honorific as if it had never existed. Maddugh’s eyes flicked to his guard and he lifted a finger, beckoning. He suppressed a smile because he could see his silence angered her. The guard bumped her forward. She took one step and paused, turning her head to look at the man.

“Put your hands on me one more time,” she said, “and see what I do to you, boy.”

Maddugh’s eyebrow rose. Boy? The guard wouldn’t like that. He was likely centuries older than this woman—but the mortals had a hard time accepting that their apparent youthfulness was entirely deceptive.

She strode forward and he had a fleeting thought that he hoped she’d been disarmed because she looked as if she wanted to shoot him, or skewer him with something pointy.

“I’m Maddugh,” he prompted when she stopped in front of him, folding her arms.

“I wasn’t sure since you didn’t answer me,” she said. “You need to tell your guards to stop taking their jobs so seriously. I’m one mere woman. He didn’t have to pat me down like an assassin.”

Ah. Likely her tone had rubbed his man the wrong way, so she’d gotten more hostile than usual treatment. Deservedly so. A beautiful, spirited woman could be forgiven many things—but not at first.

“What do you want?” he asked.

Whatever it was, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be bored in just a few more minutes. That alone was enough to incline him towards her request—which he was certain would be framed more as a demand. He glanced at the guard, dismissing him.

She took a deep breath, exhaled, uncrossing her arms. Her posture was less hostile once the guard closed the door, though no less grim.

“First thing. My daughter is dying,” she said. “I was told you can help her.”

Unexpected. “Why would I want to?”

She gaped at him a moment. He watched as anger pinked her gold-brown cheeks.

“My daughter is dying.”

He waved a hand. “You said that. And my response was, ‘Why-”

“I heard what you said,” she snapped. She paused. “I have money.”

Maddugh laughed. How cute. “Did you see the town on the way in? Yes? Well, it is all my hoarde. What need have I for your money?”

“Look, I was told you can help. I’m not even sure you can. But I know I’ll pay whatever price you ask.”

Maddugh believed her. He rose, clasping his hands behind his back and circling her. What a rare opportunity for entertainment.

“That’s annoying,” she said, staring up into the air.

He ignored her. “I happen to be… inclined towards some sort of amusement tonight. Where is the child?”

“We live about a one-hour jog from here.” She paused. “Well, it took me about that long to get here at a brisk pace. If you’ve a horse, you might want to spare yourself the exercise.”

His eyes narrowed. Was she implying he was physically weak? “I’ll run with you, and see if there is anything I can do for your child.”

Her expression didn’t change. “And your price?”

Maddugh restrained his glee. This was bound to be special entertainment. “We’ll discuss that when I see your child.” The less entertaining the interlude, the steeper the price he would exact.

* * *

Seeing him up close and relatively personal was different than watching him from afar. For one, his… presence… nearly overwhelmed her before she adjusted. It was just the natural strength of his personality. Kailigh wondered how his people managed to breathe the same air as him, or if they had developed natural shields over the years, like a magical callus. He stared at her with nearly gold eyes that seemed to pierce through her barriers and see into her soul. For a second she thought the pupils narrowed into slits. Kailigh grimaced from the melodrama of her thoughts. He was dragon, and a ruler at that. Of course, he would have a forceful personality.

The guard wanted to accompany them, and started to argue before a few low words cut the man off. Kailigh smiled, feeling a little snarky. She hadn’t appreciated the pat down, but had forced herself to submit to it when on a regular day, she would have cut the man for his temerity. She hadn’t lived for nearly half a century to allow little peasants like that to think they could run all over her. In the backwoods, away from all but the most basic of laws and technology, reputation was a woman’s best protection. That, and a gun.

* * *

It had been an unpleasant surprise to pass Gaston on the path leading up to the castle doors. He’d glanced at her, and paused, expression incredulous.

“Mistress Kailigh? What are you doing here?”

She didn’t appreciate the tone of his voice. “None of your business, I suppose.”

He glanced over his shoulder. Another stony-faced guard stared back at them. “If you have an… audience… with the Lord, he’s not in the best of moods.” His eyes roved over her body, assessing her state of dress. Kailigh stiffened, a sour taste in her mouth. A man like him always assumed the only business a single woman had with a man was the kind that required payment up front before she stretched out on her back. She shook the irritation away. Gaston didn’t matter, the present mattered.

Keeping up with Maddugh mattered. They ran at a pace which appeared leisurely to the dragon Lord but which Kailigh had to concentrate to keep. She realized the great shape she’d always prided herself on was an illusion. As they ran, she considered whether training with Dwyrkin might improve her conditioning. It was a thought for another day. For now, she focused on not embarrassing herself. The fact that she could keep up with him was marvel enough. Genes and determination, she supposed.

She tightened her jaw and banished thought. She needed to concentrate. And when this was done, she’d be upping her training regime as well.

* * *

Maddugh was thinking the same thing. The pace he set was for no slouch—and he deliberately, gradually, increased his stride to see how the woman would respond. He saw her set her face, grit her teeth and set to, breathing even, legs strong. How a human could keep up with him, he didn’t know.

Experimentally, he brushed up against her mind, something he rarely did with humans; wading through the chaos of their thoughts was like wading through honey… a smelly kind that didn’t come off in a normal wash. When he encountered a smooth steel wall, he was shocked enough that he almost stumbled. The woman was shielded. Granted, it was rudimentary, the untutored kind erected in emergencies, but he could tell it was old and entrenched. Now he really wanted to see her child, and the man who had fathered it. He frowned. Why was the mother coming and not the father? It didn’t sit well with him.

“Where is the child’s father?” he asked.

She replied, but he could tell it was an effort to keep her words even while she ran.

“Divorced. Years ago. Just me and the girls.”

Maddugh had assumed the woman belonged to someone. Single females who weren’t pleasure workers were rare in these lands, especially attractive single human females of the dangerous variety. Interest sharpened, a kind he hadn’t felt in several years. He’d always preferred his lovers with a certain edge and maturity, and it had been long enough he felt restless. The females available to him were… boring. Or too impressed with his rank and wealth to be much sport, in the bedroom or out. He missed his wife’s acerbic wit and dry candor, even if some days he couldn’t recall her face.

They arrived at her home in record time, a medium sized cabin set on a bit of cleared land with quite a large garden, lush with various vegetables and fruits she was growing. Another mark of her value. His people had trouble with their gardens, enough that he had to import food. The woman would owe him a favor, if he healed her daughter. His mind began to swirl with the possibilities of how he might collect.

They entered the house and he was led through a hallway to the back. The human knocked on the door quietly and opened it. The smell of sickness assailed him, two young women sitting guard over a third. Maddugh stared. And his suspicion that the woman by his side wasn’t fully human solidified. The mother’s eyes were a deep brown, unremarkable though lovely, a shade common amongst human and shifters. But the daughters—their eyes gave them away, throw backs to their Dwyrkin ancestor. No pure-blooded humans had eyes like that, coupled with the bone structure and focused way they regarded him. One of the young women—her queerness enrobed her the way his dragon enrobed him. He wondered what powers she would manifest when she reached full maturity.

“I thought your daughter would be a child—she is nearly adult.” He looked at the mother, eyes narrowed. The mother didn’t have the physical appearance of a woman with nearly adult children. She appeared little older than her daughters herself. “You aren’t human.”

The mother turned and pinned him with a hard look. “What?”

“You aren’t human,” he repeated, then moved forward to look at the girl lying on the bed. She was near death, lips gray and drawn. He’d seen lips that color before. Kneeling, he drew the blanket covering her away. The sister—the queer one—made a movement. He saw the mother—realizing he hadn’t asked her name—hold up a hand, the dragon Lord now mindful to tread carefully. He hadn’t lived this long by underestimating potential threats.

Maddugh turned his head to look at the eldest woman. “She has iron poisoning. You aren’t human.” Not fully, and with prodding the Dwyrkin side would emerge to the surface, enough that the humanity would become inconsequential. If iron affected her this badly, it was likely they were Dwyrkin Fae, a race biologically compatible with the dragons.

Four unwed women, with no protector, and a need to place themselves in his debt. Maddugh clamped down on his surge of avarice. How the hell had they lived all these years under his nose? Were his men blind as well as stupid? Non-human females should never have been allowed to live outside his city. They were too valuable, no matter what kind of Dwyrkin they were.

And what that meant for his people—he pushed aside the thought. For now, he had work to do, and then… he knew now what his price would be.

The woman’s dark eyes widened, then narrowed thoughtfully. Maddugh turned back to the girl and unraveled the bandages. A gunshot wound, the flesh grayed and dying.

“Doc got the bullet out,” the dark eyed one said, her voice low and raspy. Her aura was more… balanced, though she watched him just as closely, with the air of someone who wouldn’t hesitate to go for his throat.

Maddugh placed a hand over the wound. His healing gifts were minor according to his people, but in human lands where their medical technology was insufficient—especially this far away from the few city centers left, his skills were almost miraculous. He sent magic into her blood, spending several moments to seek and gather the iron, drawing it out through the wound. It began to bleed freely again. When he was certain none of the poison remained, he turned to the mother.

He couldn’t keep calling her that. “What is your name?”

She regarded him a moment. “Kailigh.”

His eyebrows shot up. Kailigh? “Did you know that is a diminutive of a Dwyrkin name?” A shortened name, usually used with an affectionate inflection. Someone had named her for a loved one, perhaps.

Or a pet.

“I did not. My daughter?”

“The poison is gone—a bit of my blood would give her some energy, help her power begin to replenish.”

“But.”

He rose. “I have decided on my price.”

Chapter Four

Kailigh tensed. Some of her worry was gone now, enough for her to feel a bit chagrined she hadn’t ironed out a price beforehand. But the urgency to just get Cinvarra healed had overridden all her good judgment. At least she hadn’t requested his help or permission in going after Ruthus. After meeting the Lord—she didn’t want it. He’d want to set in and take control, and Kai wasn’t having that. So, now she would see what manner of man she was dealing with; he had the upper hand and if she really did have Dwyrkin blood, then a bargain struck would stick or she’d suffer the consequences. She wasn’t above reneging on a deal—but not with a non-human, especially a shifter.

“What do you want?”

He stared at her, gold eyes thoughtful. She didn’t like the way he watched her, as if she were a particularly interesting bug, or a missing puzzle piece. There was far too much thought going on behind his eyes for her comfort. And standing in her small home, his presence was even more pronounced. She hadn’t fully considered it before, but the man was beautiful. The bones of his face and the perfect tone of his physique—and damn it, the long hair that hadn’t snagged as much as a strand on their trek through the forest, all proclaimed his lineage. This was a Dwyrkin Lord, made even more dangerous for the dragon nature riding him.

“How old is the girl?” he asked, gesturing to Cinvarra. “I am no judge of the ages of mixed-bloods.”

Kailigh didn’t like the question for some reason. “She is seventeen. My eldest daughters, Serephone and Persia.”

He glanced at them. “Of age?”

“Why do you want to know that?”

Maddugh smiled, though there was no amusement in the expression. “Here is my price, mistress; you and your three daughters must come back to my city as guests and for three weeks you will allow the men of my people to court you—and at the end of the three weeks you will choose husbands from among them.”

Kailigh’s knees threatened to give way. She knew better than to lock them. Her fingers itched, reaching for a flintlock she’d already set aside.

“Serephone!” Kailigh snapped, catching the twitch of her daughter’s hand. A blade appeared as if by magic. Maddugh didn’t move. Kailigh saw the subtle shift of his muscles, and knew he was prepared to defend himself regardless of his seemingly relaxed state.

“That is utterly ridiculous,” Kailigh said.

“I saved the child’s life.”

“She still looks-”

“Ma?” The weakened voice stopped her heart. Cinvarra’s eyes opened. “What’s all the shouting?”

Kailigh pushed past Maddugh, nearly shoving him to the side, and dropped to her knees. But her baby had fallen back to sleep again. Though this time, the even rise and fall of her chest comforted Kai; Cin’s breathing seemed stronger, her face and lips losing the gray cast to the skin.

She looked up at him. “I probably owe you her life-”

“Probably?” His brows inched upwards.

“But you’re asking for four lives in return.”

“Mother,” Persia said, abruptly. “I’ll pay the debt. A life for a life.” Her daughter looked at Maddugh, lip curling. “Though rightly speaking, if I have children, you will then owe me. Children are extra. Why do you want us anyway?”

He folded his arms, head tilted. “We’re a small community. We… need new genes if we’re to maintain our numbers.”

“So, it’s true,” Kailigh said. “You’re exiles.”

His eyes flashed, and for a moment, she saw the shadow of his dragon cover him.

“Yes, we are. You and your daughters share some of our blood—I hope it is enough to make children strong enough to merge into our families. It will help.”

Kailigh rose after pulling the blanket back over Cinvarra. She itched to get the room aired out, her daughter bathed and in fresh linens and clothing. But the bargain must be struck first.

“Persia is right. If my daughters have children-”

His gold eyes caught hers. “And yourself as well.”

Kailigh laughed. “I’m not a young woman. I’m past my whelping years.” Ignoring the fact that, technically, she wasn’t.

He smiled. “I’m not concerned with your human age. You aren’t the first mixed blood I’ve seen. There are… ways around your mortality.”

Kailigh stared at him. “Even if I can have more children, who the hell says I want them? Especially daughters. They are far too troublesome.”

Serephone snorted, though she still didn’t bother to speak.

“Why wouldn’t you want to?” Persia asked on behalf of her twin. “We give you an excuse to brandish your shotgun and walk around town with a dour look on your face.”

“A few strapping boys who don’t talk back to their mother or wear her best clothes might be nice,” Kailigh retorted. “Now that I think about it.”

“Lord Maddugh,” Persia said. “You healed our sister, but the price you are asking isn’t balanced. I will wed a man of your choosing and provide him with a child—and after that, I am free to divorce him as I will and raise my child, in your community, in a dwelling of my own.”

“You may not be fertile,” he countered. “Mistress Kailigh is the only woman here who has proven her ability to conceive and bring a living child to term. All three of you will wed, and after three children are born between you, the debt is paid, and you are all free to divorce.”

“All three of us will agree to be courted, two of us obligated to wed and one child between us to satisfy the debt.”

“Done.”

Maddugh turned to Kailigh, who’d been satisfied enough with her daughter’s bargain to remain silent. In the end, her children could do worse than to marry into the Dwyrkin community—at least they would have shelter, food and protection. And hadn’t that always been her goal, to make sure her girls were well settled and didn’t have to bark and growl and raise babies alone?

“A tablespoon of my blood will suffice to revive her energy,” the dragon Lord said. “Do you have silver?”

Serephone left the room, returning a moment later with a silver spoon. Maddugh took it, produced a small hunting knife and nicked his skin, murmuring as the blood flowed enough to fill the spoon. He gave the spoon to Kailigh, who knelt and coaxed it down Cinvarra’s throat, careful not to spill a drop. She wondered at herself for not questioning him on this—maybe it was the hitherto unknown Dwyrkin heritage in her that didn’t balk at feeding a stranger’s blood to her baby. She should be cringing but somehow it felt natural.

She sat back on her heels. “There.” Looking up at him, “We have some things here to see to, but we will report to you in three days.”

He frowned, but shrugged. “Three days, but not an hour more. If I have to retrieve you…”

Kailigh rose, standing nearly toe to toe with him. She was a tall woman, as were all her daughters—well, Cinvarra wasn’t done growing—but he stood a good four inches taller.

“Is that a threat?” she asked.

His dark brow rose, golden eyes glinting. “Only if your word isn’t bond. But I don’t think you want to know what happens to one of our kind when we break our word.”

She didn’t like the implied insult, but supposed he didn’t know her well enough to judge her character.

“We’ll be there.”

* * *

Bargain struck, Maddugh took his leave. After he left the air changed in the house. Kailigh could breathe easier.

“Well,” she said to no one in particular.

“Husbands?” Serephone said. Her tone expressed her thoughts clearly.

Kailigh sighed. “Would a husband be such a bad thing? And if they’re so concerned to have children, then you girls will have your pick of the men and will be well provided for.”

“Husbands. And children. Babies. I’ve smelled babies.”

“They aren’t that bad.” Somehow, she couldn’t manage to drudge up an enthusiastic tone. “The babies, anyway. Husbands? Sorry.” She shrugged. “Just be smart—nab one with a bit of industry to him. Common sense, creativity and a strong work ethic will make up for a host of other irritations.”

“Think, Serephone,” Persia said. “Single people don’t do well out here. Even the bachelors partner up to share resources. Do you plan on plaguing your mother for the rest of your life?”

Kailigh understood Persia, knew the young woman dreamed of her own family and home. She’d been the one to play with dolls as a girl, pretending to feed and change their diapers. As she’d grown older, Kailigh had watched the hope slowly fade into resignation as her daughter realized just how slim the pickings were in a remote mountain mining town.

They hadn’t even considered the Dwyrkin until now—they hardly ever came down out of their mountain, though one might look up occasionally and see the shadow of wings or a speck high in the sky that wasn’t a bird or airbus. In decade’s past, a woman might have traveled beyond her home town to one of the cities to seek a spouse, but jobs in the bigger cities were at a premium and no one wanted to take the risk of ending up in a government shelter—those places were notorious. Even worse than the damn legal sex centers. And that was after the mountains of paperwork required to gain permission to enter.

“Three weeks,” Serephone growled. “And then I’m gone. And if a man lays a finger on me—I’ll cut it off.”

Kailigh winced. Serephone wasn’t quite grasping the situation here. “Dear—they might try. That’s the point of courting. Just… don’t kill anyone, okay?”

God help them all if a male approached her eldest the wrong way. But it was a good point. She’d have to have a discussion with Maddugh on proper courting etiquette. There would be no sampling wares before purchase—even if a pretty Dwyrkin man turned her daughters’ heads. No man should be laying his hands on a young woman he wasn’t properly betrothed to anyway.

“You heard what the dragon said, Ma,” Persia said. “You should take the opportunity for a husband as well. You aren’t getting any younger and someday you’ll piss the wrong man off and find yourself on the wrong end of a shotgun.”

“I don’t think so.” Remembering she needed to put on a good face for Serephone, she amended, “Why would a male want anything to do with me when I have three lovely daughters?” And though she should feel bad—she didn’t. They were old enough, and in the end a husband was no real hardship if he was pretty, a good provider and behaved himself.

She looked down at Cinvarra. Of course, Cinvarra couldn’t wed for at least another two years, but that might be best. She’d have the longest courtship, and perhaps a real chance at lasting love.

“For now, let’s get your sister cleaned up and this room aired out. It smells like sickness. No wonder the poor girl went back to sleep.”

Kailigh went to the mudroom and took a quick inventory of their ammunition, and cursed. Too damn low. Plus, they’d need a donkey to help them carry all of it to the dragon city. No way in hell was she leaving any of her fire power here, unattended. Serephone could booby trap the place, but Kai didn’t want to harm a casual thief who might creep around to steal her vegetables while they were gone—she didn’t begrudge survival thievery.

“I’m going to town,” she told Serephone, who was busy at her desk, a miniature magnifying stop fitted over one eye. Kai eyed the array of insectoid looking metal bits and the sickly green miasma swirling around Sere’s hands and suppressed a shudder. She really didn't want to know. “No, don’t say anything, I’ll be careful. But we need a donkey to carry our weapons and your trinkets, and we’re low on ammo anyway.”

Persia stuck her head in the bedroom. Sere turned her head to look at Persia and the younger twin jumped. “Steam and Stone, that glass eye is creepy. Wear that and I guarantee no one will marry you.”

Serephone snorted, turning back to her work.

“Wear a disguise, Ma. Ruthus will be trolling.”

Kai grimaced. “Your theatrics will get you killed one day. A disguise would just draw attention to me.”

She took Horse because she’d need help with a new donkey anyway—she’d be damned if she’d walk one home. There was always a traveler or two in town willing to part with a burden beast for a bag of coal to buy fresh supplies. Especially if they’d returned empty handed from an illegal mining foray and needed to get out of town quick. A person would rather make a quick sell than abandon an animal because the mining security was hot on his or her tail.

Kai made quick time to town and took the back alleys again to the Gun & ‘Mo shop. She entered the shop and hastily chose the items they needed. The clerk excused himself to check inventory after she’d selected, and Kai waited, impatient.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she called out, not bothering to wait for a muffled reply.

Chapter Five

She scouted two of the local inns—not Stella’s—scanning hitching posts and then entering to do a quick eyeball of the patrons to look for a likely seller. She hit pay dirt with the second inn, sizing up the restless energy of a dusty man with a week’s worth of grime who wolfed down a sandwich and a tankard of beer while standing, as if he was stopping through as quickly as possible.

Kai approached, voice low. “Evening, friend.”

He glanced at her. “Don’t need a whore.”

She smiled, not offended. “Neither do I. You look like you’re passing through town. Have you seen any burden beasts on the road that might be for sale?”

His eyes narrowed, what she could see under busy brows. “How much you payin’?”

The negotiation was short and brutal once she’d assured herself he did own the animal outside, and Kai soon found herself the mistress of a new donkey. Guiding it back to Gun & ‘Mo, she looped its tether on a post and stepped inside.

And stopped short, instantly wary.

A tall man turned around, the cleanliness of his navy-blue waist coat and slicked-back hair a certain sign he was no miner or traveling merchant.

“Mistress Kailigh, good day,” Gaston said, a friendly smile lighting his face.

Her eyes shifted to the blank faced clerk. “Evening, Gaston.”

“Stocking up, hmm?”

“Something like that.”

She walked past him, deliberately rude, and nodded at the clerk. “You got what I ordered.”

He jerked his head at several small boxes stacked in front of him. She flipped each open, doing an experienced eyeball count, picking up a bullet to examine the quality of the workmanship. Sometimes these places tried to pass homemade stuff off on a woman thinking she knew no better. Though Kai liked to think her reputation preceded her after all this time.

“That’s a lot of ammo, Kai,” Gaston said, moving closer.

She wanted to ignore him, but he wasn’t the type who liked to take a hint. She’d always wondered why Maddugh had hired such a snake oil smelling fella as one of the foremen of his mines.

“None of your business,” she said, blunt, then turned to the clerk. “Will you take coal?”

The clerk’s eyes widened and he glanced at Gaston, paling. “Kailigh!”

She rolled her eyes. “My coal is above board. I’ve permission from Maddugh himself.” Not really, but she was fairly certain he’d give it after she explained the situation. He must be aware there was a small black market trade for unlicensed coal in town—no one really enforced the consequences unless one was just flagrant about it.

Gaston coughed. “Maddugh?”

She glanced at him. “Yeah, so don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“Is this part of the commotion I’m told went on the other day, Kailigh?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I know one thing—anyone who comes near my house will trip my booby traps.” She smiled, bland. “You spread that gossip around, why don’t you?”

His eyes narrowed, then he smiled. “You tell Lord Maddugh I said hello, why don’t you?”

“Sure,” she said, and turned to go. “Coal’s on Horse, I’ll bring it in.”

By the time she’d lugged three five-pound bags of the black rock and loaded the leather side saddles with five boxes of ammo, the sun was beginning to slid down behind the mountains. She pushed the burden beast to make good time home and fed and watered both right away.

The girls were glad to see her and they all tackled the remainder of their individual tasks, including packing up, when Kailigh heard a loud knock on the door. The sun was high in the sky and she didn’t have time for interruptions. Ire roused, thinking the dragon must have gotten impatient and sent someone to fetch them—she stalked to the front door and yanked it open.

Fast reflexes and instinct born from years of honing had Kailigh whirling to the side just as a dart whizzed past. It grazed her upper arm.

“That was just to say hello,” a voice called out.

She touched the thin line of blood on her arm, cursing that she’d taken her jacket off. The leather would have protected her.

“You come here to die, Adjrius?” she shouted.

He laughed, the sound ghostly. “No, indeed. Death isn’t profitable. I’d like an audience with your daughter, if I may. A permanent one, and then I and the twelve men surrounding your home with heavy ammunition and launchers will leave peacefully. Come—one little daughter is a small price to pay.”

Kailigh cursed, slammed the door shut, throwing the bolts home, and darted to her mudroom.

“Red alert!” she shouted, knowing the twins would hear her. The dart had been treated with tranquilizer—the fast-acting kind good enough to take down a rabid horse. She could already feel a creeping numbness spread.

The sound of feet at the back door whispering open told Kai the girls were taking positions, and silently. She’d never been one for all that talking and posturing.

Gritting her teeth against the spreading poison, she ran back into the living room and threw open the door, rolling to the ground. A stone retainer wall the height of a donkey guarded their cottage. Unless her enemies had climbed the trees beyond the clearing, there was no vantage point from where they could attack her or the girls from above.

Sere and Persia would be in their positions. Kailigh kicked out a pre-loosened stone from the wall and aimed her rifle.

Ruthus Adjrius stepped from the forest, one hand resting inside his scarlet brocade vest, streams of light winking off the gold-plated metal of his mechanical arm harness. That had been a nasty surprise. The upgrade from a simple leather sling meant he now had financial backing. Someone rich in a Dome with a taste for Outland female flesh, probably the younger the better. It would explain why after all these years he’d finally tried to nab Cinvarra. Anger boiled to the surface as Kailigh considered that her daughter had been ‘ordered.’ That he’d procured photos of Cin, a description of her temperament then presented them to some dissolute dandy and received the required bounty to net the fish.

“Come out, mistress,” he shouted. “Be reasonable about this.”

Probably didn’t want to risk damaging Cinvarra any more than he already had. Kai’s lip curled and she said nothing. Or he just wanted her to give away her position.

A shot ripped into the tree next to him, shards of bark shattering. He stumbled back, cursing, and Kai let out a small curse of her own. Persia—Serephone wouldn’t have missed.

“Kill the crone,” she heard him snarl. “Try to keep the fillies. If they can be broken, a trio will be worth even more than a single bud.”

* * *

Son of a bordello bitch.

The first whiz of a steam powered short range lobby gun sang in the air. Dirt sprayed, shredding her carefully tended perennials, creating a foot-deep crater in the bed. Kailigh returned fire, aiming in the direction of the enemy fire. She’d rather deal with a gunshot or knife wounds any day. Steam could literally flay the flesh down to the bone, and no one could survive those kinds of burns these days. The agony while a victim died was unbearable.

She heard the cry and thud as one of her bullets met flesh, and smiled, scrambling to another position. Suddenly a swarm of black bees headed from around the side of the cabin and into the forest, a whirring to their song that raised hairs on the back of Kai’s neck. Those were no ordinary bees—they were Sere’s mechanized insects, powered with a bit of her innate magic, with razor sharp wings and tiny feet that in numbers could scratch a man’s eyes out. Her daughter had deployed them only in demonstration, and Kai had sworn her to secrecy. If anyone with any power ever found out what Serephone could do… flesh traffickers would be the last of their worries.

Kailigh cursed as men emerged from the forest, swatting at their clothing. Others advanced behind them, weapons sighted, and fired. She shot until her ammunition was gone and then rose and ran, drawing her long knife, trusting the girls to cover her.

She engaged the first man, counting on his surprise to give her a small initial advantage. Men were always shocked how strong she was, especially when all they saw was a skirt with a decorative rifle. All women carried rifles these days—most knew how to use 'em too. But most females were still at a physical disadvantage in a hand to hand fight with a man. Kailigh wasn’t.

Dropping the first, the second stepped up. Black hair in the corner of her vision—the twins joining the fight. Kailigh stumbled, fell hard on one knee. Going with the motion of her body, she used it to her advantage and drew a knife, twisting at the last second and plunging it into the gut of an assailant.

He screamed, clutching her hand as she twisted the knife. His boot aimed for her but she already was on her feet, shaking off the tranquilizer. She clutched him around the neck, using his sinking body as a shield as she walked backwards.

“Retreat!” she yelled, and the twins backed up with her, expressions calm. When they reached the front door, Persia kicked it open and Kai dropped her body shield, dead bolted the door and whirled, running for Cinvarra’s room. Praying no one had snuck in the rear while she and the girls were occupied.

Gone.

Her heart stopped, and then Serephone entered as Kai heard the creak of the trap door to the basement safe room. The room she’d dug out only after the house was built, so no one would know it was there.

“She’s downstairs,” Sere said.

Kai exhaled, nodded. “Ammo?”

“Heading there now.”

Kailigh and Serephone reloaded, waited on Persia, and then the three left through the back. If they waited too long, the traffickers would try to storm the house, and there was no way they’d win a gun fight in close quarters, outnumbered. Their best chance was to carefully pick off the shooters one by one with patience and superior skill, counting on the fact that they didn’t want to kill them if it could be avoided.

The back door was disguised by hanging vines as if it were just a wall like the rest of the house. But she’d had enough visitors over the years that someone could have told Rufus about the hidden door.

She slipped out first, crouched lower than the wall, and took up position again. Kailigh cocked the rifle, waited until she had a clear shot, and fired at one of the re-emerging men. One down. Fired again. Another down. Shots on either side of her as the girls followed suit.

The forest returned fire. “We won’t make it,” Kai said, grim. “I want you girls to take Cinvarra and escape through the forest. Sere—you have any of those hand bombs?”

“You’ll set the forest on fire,” Persia said, curt. “We’re not leaving you.”

“Who’s more important? Your baby sister or me?” It was a low blow, according to the paleness of Persia’s face. Serephone didn’t blink, lips drawn and grim.

The eldest twin glanced at her mother once, eyes fierce, and nodded, grabbing Persia by the arm. “Let’s go.”

“What! I’m not leaving Ma.”

“You want Cin to be a sex slave? Let’s go. Ma knows what she’s doing.”

Kailigh didn’t have time to even blink back tears, or worry about whether the girls would be safe. Only to be grateful for Serephone’s brutal practicality. “Get to the constable. Go.”

And then the forest was on fire.

A roar echoed through the trees, and a man’s scream. The wild swish of wings overhead as a shadow blocked out the sun and swooped low, rose high into the air, and turned to dive again. Loud shouting and rapid fire—not in their direction—and the boom as a fire canon went off. The dragon swerved, roaring in what sounded suspiciously like laughter.

Kailigh stared, then burst into action as the iridescent black dragon crashed to the ground, dirt spraying as he deliberately tore claws into the earth, flinging boulder sized clumps of earth at his targets. His barbed tail cut through the air with a high-pitched whine, his maw bloody, fangs bared. He reared back, chest expanding.

“No FIRE!” Kailigh screamed at Maddugh—who else would it be? And what the hell was he thinking?

The dragon glanced at her then released his breath in a cloud of brimstone air. The traffickers yelled at each other, momentarily discombobulated. Maddugh dropped onto his fours and charged, a tank the size of her small cottage, wings flaring to block out the sun. He fought with tail and claws, long neck swiping to snatch at foes with the length of her arm. Her daughters scrambled out of the way, retreating to her position, flintlock at the ready.

“Stay here to guard the door, I’ll cover him,” she said, and ran through the gate, took a knee, and protected his flanks. Maddugh made short work of the men who hadn’t managed to flee. Kailigh winced, hoping he’d send people to help clean up the mess, but then realizing with resigned fairness that it was her problem, so she would clean it up.

When the fight was over, the dragon stood on its hind legs again. The air around him shimmered, morphing into the Dwyrkin Lord.

Kailigh stared.

“Nice trick,” Serephone said, then, unexpectedly, tilted her head to eye the man up and down. Kai really couldn’t blame her.

“Where are his clothes?” Persia wondered.

He was a magnificent specimen, golden brown skin unblemished, the perfect proportion of lean toned muscle without looking over bulged or unfit. And evidently, he had no concern over his nudity because he strode forward, ignoring Serephone’s fixed stare and Persia’s slow, appreciative grin.

Maddugh’s amber eyes slashed into Kailigh. “No fire?” He snorted. “You’re coming with me. Now.”

Kailigh stood, locking her knees. “I don’t appreciate your tone of voice.”

“No?” He strolled closer, stepping close enough she wanted to reach for her knife, and stuck his face in hers. “I don’t care if you care for my tone of voice or not. We have a bargain, and you can’t fulfill it if you are dead, mistress.” He lifted a finger, touched her cheek. “Careful, Kailigh. If you renege on a bargain with a dragon—you become part of his hoarde.”

The low, nearly intimate tone told Kai one thing—he wanted her to become part of his hoarde. If she reneged on the bargain, it would be the pretext he needed to get what he wanted. Kailigh understood what he wanted on the surface—but she didn’t understand why he looked at her as if what he wanted, and she herself, were intertwined.

She tried to take a step back and her body betrayed her, adrenaline dropping to allow the effect of the poison to make itself known. He caught her as her knees crumpled, swinging her up into his arms.

“Are you injured?” he asked, voice sharp, then knelt, laying her on the earth to run hands over her body.

She tried not to think that a handsome, naked male was leaning over her, his hands all over her. “Tranquilizer,” she said, words slightly mushy. “It’ll burn off in an hour.”

His expression darkened and he lifted his wrist to his mouth. Fangs flashed, tearing into his skin and he pressed his bleeding wrist to her lips.

“A few mouthfuls,” he said when she gagged and tried to turn her head. His free hand gripped her jaw. “Either you take my blood, or I’ll carry you back to my home and tie you to my bed until you’re well.”

He could. She was no match for a dragon. Her eyes narrowed but she opened her mouth, lapping at the salty sweet liquid with a surprising lack of recoil, unable to look away from his eyes. It trickled through her, better than the finest wines or purest blends of coffee, banishing fatigue and numbness—and awakening a feeling in her body long buried.

His nostrils flared. “That’s enough. Greedy woman.” Maddugh rose, drawing her to her feet with him and for a moment his hands wrapped around her waist. He stared at her. “Dangerous woman.”

“More dangerous than a dragon?” She took a step back. “I don’t think so.”

He grabbed her hands, halting her. “A beautiful woman is always more dangerous. You interest me. That would be enough for me to stake a claim even if your… unique characteristics didn’t already sway me.”

“Are we really discussing this now, Maddugh? It doesn’t seem like the best time.”

“No? Then when?”

How about never. He made her uneasy, the focused way he stared at her, seemingly oblivious to everything else. The focus of a hunter.

“I-“ she stopped, gathering her dignity. Tugged at her hands, which he refused to relinquish. “I’m too old for flirting.”

He laughed at her. “My youngest son is older than you. You’re shy. Very well—now really isn’t the time. But there will be a time, mistress.”

Chapter Six

Shy.

Kailigh fumed over that word, but eventually her practicality reasserted itself. She wanted to send the girls with Maddugh and stay behind to defend her land.

“Are you mad?” he exclaimed, buttoning his black vest. He’d given her a long look before turning and trotting back into the forest, emerging a few moments later with a pack he must have dropped before attacking. “One lone woman against a troop of flesh traffickers? They will kill you—or take you.” His expression told her which he thought was worse. Kailigh’s teeth ground. Already he thought of them as his.

But she was adamant. “I was ready to abandon the place before they pulled this stunt. Now they can have it over my lifeless body.”

Maddugh’s hard expression didn’t change. “I think not, mistress. You have an oath to fulfill. I’ll send guards to protect your home.”

“I don’t want your guards. They owe me nothing.”

“They will owe you more than you think,” he replied, voice flat. “I’m not arguing with you.” His gaze flicked to Persia, who’d disappeared during the argument and now emerged from the side of the house with the donkey. “You’re already loaded? Good.” He paused, sniffing. “Is that ammunition?”

Kai ignored the incredulous tone and turned to give the packs a final going over.

“You packed ammunition instead of clothing and hair brushes and… things?”

Serephone grinned, a rare, scary expression. She looked like a Mad Hatter rather than a twenty something young woman with fey eyes and a moody disposition.

Maddugh carried Cinvarra. Kailigh could tell Serephone didn’t like it, but in the end, it was Kailigh’s decision, and a practical one. The trek to his city was neither long nor short, but she and the girls had guns—he didn’t. Even if he couldn’t turn into a dragon while carrying the girl, Kailigh thought Cinvarra was best served directly under the Dwyrkin Lord’s protection. Serephone and Persia doubled on Horse, and Kai lead Donkey.

They’d taken a few precious minutes to bathe, change and groom the basement dirt out of Cin’s hair. Kailigh didn’t want her daughter, even unconscious, to suffer the indignity of appearing for the first time in a potential new home smelly and bedraggled. Her skin was rosy underneath its usual dusky hue, her breathing even and soft. Clearly, the girl was on the mend.

When they reached his home, the guard on the stone wall stared first at Maddugh, then at the three women, eyes slowly widening. Maddugh ignored him after giving a curt instruction. By the time they reached the hall, two other men were inside. One sat in Maddugh’s chair, head propped on his elegant fingers, the other lounged on a nearby wall, arms closed.

“Treats,” the man sitting in the chair exclaimed, straightening. His long pale hair contrasted against golden skin and pale eyes, glittering with mirth. His open white shirt and golden brown vest looked as if he couldn’t be bothered with buttons and the fitted black pants emphasized the elegant musculature of his thighs and calves. “So kind of you, Father. If I had known that was where you were headed this afternoon…”

“Out of my seat, Hrutha,” Maddugh said. “You aren’t Lord yet.”

He sounded like any other father. Kailigh realized they had that in common—both the parents of adult, probably rebellious, children.

The male on the wall straightened. He wore his hair longer than most, almost to the small of his back, a braid on one side. Leaner than his father, and darker as if he spent considerable time in the sun, his eyes traveled between the women, brow rising. Unlike the other, his attire was modest, nearly severe. A long buttoned up black coat with a high collar so his hair nearly blended in. Broad shoulders, which must have been either a nightmare or a delight for his tailor—depending on the tailor’s point of view.

“Father, what have you done?”

Maddugh looked at him. “These women are under my protection. Do not insult them. Where is Nuaddan?”

“He went hunting this morning,” Hrutha said. “But you have quarried far more interesting prey.”

The dark one came forward, giving his brother an irritated look. “Why are they here, Father?”

“Look closely, Amnan,” he said. “Can’t you tell?”

Amnan studied Kailigh, green eyes flaring with a nascent light, pupils narrowing to slits before his attention shifted to Serephone. He stared at her, unsmiling. Serephone stared back, eyes narrowing. Kailigh touched the back of her daughter’s hand in warning.

“Dwyrkin,” he said. “Weak Dwyrkin.” Turning to his father, “You want them to choose mates.”

“Exactly.” Maddugh’s self-satisfied tone irritated her.

“You’re mad. Hrutha, talk some sense into him.” Then he paused, putting a hand to his brow. “Never mind—I don’t know what I was thinking. You would never talk sense into anyone.”

Hrutha smiled, and settled back into his father’s throne, flinging a leg over the side. “There will be a riot. Four sisters with Dwyrkin blood? This week should be fabulously entertaining,”

Kailigh scowled. “I’m their mother, boy. My eldest daughters, Serephone and Persia. The sleeping one is Cinvarra. And before there’s a riot, you put out that my girls can handle themselves with a blade and shotgun just fine—and their mother taught them.”

“Delightful,” Hrutha purred. “That will provide even better sport. You know, I prefer my women properly aged, like fine wine.”

“Hrutha,” Maddugh said.

Amnan sighed, obviously displeased. “You’ve borne three daughters with weak Dwyrkin blood, mistress? There will definitely be a riot when word gets out. Father. I had things to do this month.”

Kailigh looked at Maddugh. “And we’ll be laying some ground rules of conduct about the courtship. Especially with the youngest. There will be no physical importuning, and my daughters will be chaperoned at all times.”

“Of course, of course. Amnan, arrange it,” Maddugh said. “I want no improprieties. This must be done in an organized fashion.”

“Just how do you organize half the unmarried male population slavering after a woman who has proven fertility and her three nubile daughters?”

Serephone twitched. Persia just grinned, the better natured of the two. Kailigh was certain Serephone didn’t like being referred to as nubile, much less spoken of as if she wasn’t present. But the assertion that the men would be after Kailigh took her aback.

“I’ll make it known she is mine,” Maddugh replied, voice pleasant. His eyes flared. “If any wishes to challenge my claim, they are welcome. This year has been far too peaceful.”

“I don’t think I’ll have to worry about any slavering.” She stared at him, hard. “Regarding my girls, if acceptable husbands—I don’t know what all this mate business is—present themselves to me for my daughters, I will consider them. We are tired, Lord Maddugh.” She looked pointedly at Cinvarra, still cradled in his arms.

He nodded and Amnan disappeared into an inner hallway, returning a few minutes later with a female dressed in a nondescript skirt and blouse that could only be household livery.

“Mistress, this is a female member of our household. She will be responsible for your rooms and you may speak to her regarding any needs you have while you reside here. Come, we’ll show you to your rooms.”

“What, you don’t trust me to show them to their accommodations?” Hrutha called out, laughing when Amnan glanced at him, irritated, taking Cinvarra from his father.

The trip through the house was quick. Like the outside suggested, it wasn’t overly large and the halls were just wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Runners protected the polished wood floors and the occasional window let in light and a view of the forest and town beyond. Of course, one side of the house was built against the mountain.

They entered the first of their rooms. The furniture was plain, but elegant. Made of specially treated woods, it gleamed with an inner fire. Ornate quilts set off the wood and colorful woven rope rugs were scattered on the floor. A great chest of drawers sat in one corner. Kailigh noted this quickly, pulling down the quilt to lay Cinvarra down.

“When will she wake?” Kailigh asked, knowing he probably didn’t have an answer.

"Soon," Amnan replied. "Her breathing is even and her color good. Allow her to rest, mother." He glanced at Kailigh, eyes inscrutable. "What is the real reason my father brought you here?"

"He healed her. Us hanging around for three weeks to maybe catch some bees was the deal. He seems to be enamored of this idea of injecting some new genes into your population."

"Hmm. Has he... spoken to you?"

Kailigh frowned. She was too old for euphemisms. "I don’t think you have to worry about that. I'm an old woman—he’ll lose interest once the novelty of the idea wears off.”

Maddugh’s son laughed, then stopped when he saw she wasn't joking, face serious but vastly more amused. "Well. We'll see. My father never does anything without a hidden motivation—several. Rue is correct—this should be entertaining. I’ll leave you to your rest, mistress."

* * *

A light meal was sent up, and Kailigh availed herself of the attached bathroom, enjoying the city style plumbing. There wasn't much of an infrastructure for the amenities outside of the Domes, so however Maddugh had rigged pipes—it was a treat.

But she couldn't sleep. She rose from the end of Cinvarra's bed, wrapping an oversized shawl over her thin nightgown, and left the room. She’d seen a common balcony off one hallway when they'd come up. A good idea, to have a shared area everyone could enjoy rather than private spaces attached to bedrooms.

Stepping into the early morning breeze, Kailigh watched as the first hints of dawn appeared over the mountainside. There was a decent view of the sloping valley city from here. A few individuals stirred—perhaps the baker or mother's beginning morning chores. Dwyrkin or human, life ran along much the same lines. Women birthed babies, tried their best to keep them fed and safe until they were old enough to get their food themselves, and tried to put something valuable in their brains in the meantime. Maybe gain some ground with each generation. Not for the first time Kailigh regretted that she hadn’t had a mother to guide and help her in the rearing of her girls—but was determined to be present for her daughters when they chose mates and bore children.

"Are you up early or late?"

"Maddugh." She’d felt the presence behind her, and had guessed who it must be. "I couldn't sleep. Too wound up from the day."

"I could help you relax."

She stifled a snort. Now that sounded like a pick-up line if ever she'd heard one. "And would I have to see your etchings to do that?"

“Pardon?”

Kailigh shook her head. "Never mind." She turned, facing him squarely. It was time to nip this in the bud. Amber eyes watched her placidly. She wasn’t fooled.

"Lord Maddugh, I am not available for a fling, if your thoughts were headed that way. I have three daughters and a steading to oversee, and no time for foolishness."

"A liaison with me would be foolish?" White teeth flashed, and she wasn't sure if it was a smile or a challenge. "Very well, mistress. I will not approach you with any foolishness." He paused. "Your eldest daughter. The fey one. Is she..."

Kailigh watched him attempt to find a delicate word and after a minute decided to help him out. "Sane? Yes, she is. I don't think your men will fare well with her, however. She learned at a young age to distrust." And that was all Kailigh would say on the matter.

Maddugh's eyes chilled, and she realized he didn't see her, but was looking inward. "I see." He stepped back, and to her consternation, bowed, hair slithering over his shoulder. Stone and Steam, these Dwyrkin were pretty. "I will see you at the first meal. We don't break fast until later than is human custom."

She nodded. "That's fine. We tend to do chores before eating, anyway. Don't trouble the kitchen on our behalf." She paused. “Do you have a telegraph?”

“Of course. There is a business office open for use for the entire household on the first floor.” He studied her. “Who do you need to communicate with?”

His mild tone didn’t fool her. But she was in his home. She gave him the courtesy of a reply. “The town constable. He’ll want some kind of report until I can get to town to make a formal statement.”

“You won’t be going into town anytime soon.”

Kailigh stared. “Excuse me? I think I misheard.”

He smiled. “No, I think your hearing is just fine. You may not leave the city until I’m certain there is no danger to you or your daughters.”

“Our bargain wasn’t for you to decide when I come and go, Maddugh.”

“I cannot collect toll from a dead woman. And if this enemy truly wants our daughters, he is now aware that the only way he may procure them is over your dead body. And now, mine.”

He stepped forward, a subtle entrance into her personal space. Kai remained where she was, refusing to play the cat and mouse game by backing up. Or by demanding he step back. She wouldn’t let him know he affected her.

“I said you interest me, Kailigh,” Maddugh said. “I find myself wondering…” he lifted a hand, brushed a finger over the line of her jaw, down her neck. Kai tensed. Not acknowledging that the feather light touch branded her skin even through the cloth of her jacket. “Wondering things only a husband should wonder.”

Kailigh inhaled. “You play with serious words like they are candy.”

Maddugh smiled, though his eyes remained dark, intense. “I’m a serious man—and much older than you. I know what I want when I see it—and I rarely wait long to claim something I’ve determined belongs to me.”

“I am not a mine to be claimed.”

“No? Well, then I must revert to gentler means of persuasion.”

He led her to the office, inclined his head, and left her in private. Kailigh forced her mingled temper and growing lust to simmer down, practicality winning over anger. In the end, it didn’t matter what Maddugh wanted—short of locking her up, he couldn’t control her. So let him entertain his delusions all he wanted. She would waste no emotional or mental energy arguing with him.

She sent a brief message and waited. It wasn’t a long wait, and she cursed when the reply was final. The airbus was gone—and so was Ruthus Adjrius.

Chapter Seven

Kailigh returned to Cinvarra’s room. The girl was still sleeping so Kai prowled around, finally coming to stand next to a tall potted plant.

“You’re in the wrong spot, aren’t you?” she murmured to it, dragging it closer to a window with light. “There. Better.”

She caressed a leaf, lips curving, a bit of energy flowing from her fingertips into the browning foliage. The leaf plumped, brittle edges turning green again and she turned away, satisfied, to see Cinvarra sitting up. Kai crossed the room quickly and sat next to Cin, placing her hand on her youngest child’s forehead.

“Baby, when did you wake up?”

“Just now. Where are we?”

Kailigh hesitated. But she hadn’t raised her children to avoid the truth. “I had to go to Lord Maddugh to heal you.”

Cinvarra turned her head, lavender eyes sharp. “What did you give him?”

“Three weeks of our time, all four of us for… courting.”

“What?”

Kailigh grimaced, and explained as briefly as she could.

Cinvarra grinned. “Sere must be frothing at the mouth.”

Sometimes she was glad she didn’t have sisters. “Not quite.” Kailigh’s expression firmed. “We have more important things to talk about.”

Cinvarra’s eyes slid sideways.

“Cinvarra. I want to know why you disobeyed orders during the fight.”

She’d ordered Cin and Persia to flee, and Serephone would help Kai cover their retreat. Cin hadn’t budged, grabbing her pistol and calmly joining the fray. Persia had then had no choice but to stay put as well—it would have been more dangerous to try to force an unwilling person to retreat than to stay put and focus on not getting shot.

Cinvarra’s dry lips thinned. Kailigh reached over to pour a glass of water from the jug sitting at Cinvarra’s bedside, waiting until the girl took a few sips. Delaying sips. Kai had time.

“I don’t really remember.”

“Really. You think I buy that?”

Cinvarra sighed. “Ma. I’m tired of being treated like the baby. I’m seventeen and a better shot than Persia. I have a right to defend myself instead of running.”

Of all the nerve. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. The middle of a kidnapping attempt isn’t the time for you to assert your independence.” Kai heard her own struggle to keep an even tone. She stood. “We’ll be nipping this problem in the bud, once and for all.”

Cinvarra’s eyes widened. “What are you planning? Shouldn’t we be talking about the bargain you struck?”

“You just focus on getting all healed up. And when you’re at full strength, we will have a long talk.”

Kailigh measured the combination of stubbornness and fatigue on Cinvarra’s face, weighed it against the carrot her youngest child dangled. Cinvarra would be the most cooperative of the three with Maddugh’s price. She’d always been the one to indulge Persia’s talk of babies.

“Fine. Lie back down. We can talk more about this in the morning.”

“A Dwyrkin husband,” Cin murmured, laying back obediently. “They are handsome, aren’t they? And they can hunt.”

She fell back asleep. Kailigh brushed loose strands of her hair away from her forehead. “Yes, baby. I think they can.”

Once Cin was asleep, Kai sought out Serephone and Persia. “He didn’t leave ahead of the regularly scheduled departure to lick his wounds,” she warned.

“Reinforcements,” Serephone said.

Kai nodded, grim. “Yes. Persia—I know you have friends at Stella’s in town. Can you have one of the working girls keep an ear out? I want to know the instant the airbus is sighted again. We’ll have to move quick—and strike as soon as he disembarks.”

“Ma…” Persia hesitated. “What about bystanders? Everyone always comes to watch the airbus dock. And the vendors.”

“I know, but if we wait for him to get into position, we’ll be at a disadvantage. He’ll be returning with more men and more firearms.”

Serephone’s mouth thinned. “Warn everyone there might be fireworks. Tell vendors to come armed. Might be on our side. No one likes a trafficker.”

No. But no one had the nerve to organize an offensive, either. Everyone was afraid of the repercussions if it did turn out he was backed by a patron in Seattle. But the time for fear was over. It wasn’t just traveling working girls Ruthus snatched now. He was upgrading.

Kai sighed, feeling a moment of shame. She hadn’t cared—enough—about the missing saloon women before. She’d had her own daughters to see to, and no desire to get involved in a mess that would bring attention to them. Maybe if she had, maybe if they’d been less selfish, it wouldn’t have come to this.

“Spread the word, quietly,” she said. “Use the telegraph, don’t go into town unless you must. And don’t go alone and for Stones’ sake, sneak. Maddugh thinks he can keep us all wrapped in wool.”

Persia snorted.

* * *

She was walking through the gardens again, attempting to ignore the itching in her fingers—some of the plants were just not well cared for at all, and Kailigh’s natural affinity for green things screamed at her to do something about it. She paused in front of a rose bush. It wasn’t like Maddugh would be upset by a little harmless gardening. She reached out a hand, sparks of energy flowing to her fingertips, and caressed a velvety petal.

A man coughed behind her. Kailigh jumped, whirling, a curse on her lips. “Steam and Stones, make some noise when you walk!” How the hell could anyone move that quietly? She hadn’t even sensed he was near.

Amnan regarded her, impassive. “Apologies. I forgot human women are easily frightened.”

Is that what the boy thought? She crossed her arms. “Yeah? Well, what’s your business, then?”

“My father asked me to make you aware of the arrangements for this evening.”

Arrangements? “And?”

“There will be a faire to honor you and your daughters. An introduction to our town, with vendors and dancing.”

“Piss poor timing.” She needed to go hunting, not chaperone her daughters at a dance. Ruthus was out there, and needed to be dealt with permanently.

His brow creased briefly. “I don’t know the term.”

“It means—never mind. So, he wants to parade us around, huh? Who’s invited?”

“It will be held in the town square, so anyone who would like to make your acquaintance, may do so.”

Of course. Her mood soured, a bit. “I wish I’d known his Lordship’s plans ahead of times. I would have packed the girls some nicer clothing.”

He shrugged. “That is nothing. I’ll have a woman of the house choose some dresses from the stores in town.”

Kailigh frowned. “I’d rather do it myself. I’m on a budget, and I know best what suits my girls.”

Amnan looked annoyed. “Your budget is irrelevant; the clothing will be a gift from my father. Tell the woman what you want and she will bring back several options. I’m sure there will be something suitable to choose from.”

He didn’t sound ready to budge, and she wanted to choose her battles anyway. “Fine. Will your Da be explaining to the townsfolk the consequences of being overeager to make the acquaintance of my girls?”

Forest eyes gleamed, with anger or humor she couldn’t quite tell. “None of my people would touch a woman against her will. But it will be made known you are all under the protection of my house. Any who offends you will be dealt with severely.”

Truth rang in his voice. Between the oath and her own faith in both her blades and those of her daughters, she was mollified.

“All right then.” Kailigh paused. “Just so you know—I would be happy if my daughters found good providers to wed. In time. So, I won’t stand in the way of any respectable male with a good living who presents himself properly. The girls may be a bit more resistant— they’re younger, and more idealistic about love and such things.” She snorted.

His brow rose. “And you, mistress? You count yourself too old for love?”

She waved a hand. “Love is a safe home to raise your children in, a father who doesn’t beat them, and food on the table three times a day. My babies are grown, so I have very little use for such things at my age.”

“Interesting.”

He sounded like his father…

“I see why my father finds you amusing.”

… which was definitely a bad thing. Time for another discussion with Lord Maddugh, anyway.

Amnan’s eyes narrowed speculatively and his hand rose. He took a small step forward as Kailigh stared at him, nonplussed.

“If my father is not to your liking—”

She raised a hand, a little creeped out. “I think that’s enough of that.”

Amnan took the hand, rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, and reeled her in with an effortless strength. “My father is not the only eligible male of rank, and he shouldn’t always get first choice of the tastiest morsels. It spoils him to have no competition.”

Was he really comparing her to meat? Really? “You’re Maddugh’s son. In my mind, I equate you with my daughter.”

He paused, brow raised. “I am not your daughter. In fact, I’m older than you. Am I not as appealing as Maddugh?”

Kailigh, amused now that she realized this was a boy’s pissing contest with his Da, patted his cheek. “You’ll have your time, son. But thank you for the compliment.”

He sighed, releasing her, then shrugged. “Might have been interesting.”

Were all the men here mad?

* * *

Kailigh persuaded a member of Maddugh’s household to direct her to where the Dwyrkin Lord was this time of day. As they walked the halls, Kailigh observed evidence of his dual nature in carved wood trims depicting dragons in various poses. The paintings on the walls were mostly forest scenes as well, some whimsical with dragonlings playing under sunlight. The house was larger than it appeared on the outside, and they passed any number of people. She wondered how many Maddugh housed in his personal residence—and why. She didn’t know much about the Dwyrkin, but the custom of keeping such a large staff seemed feudal. And a waste of personal resources, unless he was just that wealthy.

Her escort abandoned her at a door on the second floor. Evidently, while the first floor was open concept and mostly taken up by the large living/receiving hall, the second floor was for personal and guest rooms.

“Enter.”

She turned the smooth silver handle, entering an office. And stopped, staring at the warrior who executed strike after strike, body flowing with the grace of water. She’d seen the ocean once, as a girl. The waves crashing against the shore with powerful, undulating grace.

His eyes met hers for one brief, searing moment, proving he was aware of her regard, but he flowed into the next strike. The thinnest sheen coated golden brown skin, though his face was smooth. Kailigh watched. Inhale, exhale. Mesmerized, having never seen a male so… alive. Strength, grace, and beauty combined with the danger and discipline of a man who willingly subjected himself to master a skill as grueling and mundane as hand to hand combat. This was a man who wouldn’t cheat on a wife, abandon her alone with three small daughters.

At that thought, Kailigh shook herself from her reverie. Stupid. Physical attractiveness didn’t make a man. Actions made a man, and she’d lived enough years in this town to know Lord Maddugh took his responsibility to his people seriously, defending their land and wealth ruthlessly.

“A moment,” Maddugh said, his voice quiet after he’d stilled. Completing his exercise, he crossed the room to another door and disappeared inside.

Kailigh stepped further into the room, curious. The town hall had a place like this where the mayor set up shop to handle town business. A wide, dark desk clear except for a few paper books set in a corner. No chairs in front—as if the owner of the desk wanted to discourage company. Kailigh suppressed a smile. There was some seating on the opposite side of the room, next to a small bookcase filled with more books. She eyed it a moment before turning her attention to the man she’d come to see, emerging from the room with a shirt on. Pity.

“How may I serve?” he asked, gesturing to the seating area.

“What kind of martial arts were you doing?” Kailigh asked, unmoving.

“From my homeland.” He smiled at her. “Would you like to learn?”

Her brow rose. “If I learned your tricks, I could use them against you.”

The quality of his smile altered. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the expression, but for a moment she froze, abdomen tense with instinctive response.

“I would like it if you made the attempt. Will you sit?”

His words sounded like an invitation, and not a threat. So, he was a man who liked a bit of rough play, huh? She moved to the seat, obeying the thinly veiled command.

“Your son might like it as well,” she said without thinking.

Maddugh froze. “Excuse me?”

She waved a hand, smiling a bit. “Never mind.”

“What did he do?” Maddugh’s teeth snapped. “Amnan, correct?”

“Your son has a competitive streak. Is he your eldest?”

Maddugh snarled. “No. I’ll have a discussion with him.”

“Hmm. Well, there was no harm done. He’s rather charming. But that isn’t why I sought you out.”

He crossed his arms, still irritated. “Well?”

“I wanted to know what your intentions are for this evening.”

He sat in his own chair, crossing an ankle at his knee. “How is your youngest daughter? I’m told she awoke.”

“She did, and her color is almost normal.”

“She’s excused from the festivities this eve. There is time enough after she is rested. I’ll have a woman of my house sit with her.”

Kailigh appreciated the gesture, but shook her head. “No, Cinvarra wants to go, I think. I’ll just have her take it easy once there. And the girls don’t get much time for fun, anyway.”

“Ah. Then I’m glad to provide an opportunity. As for your questions—I have no plans. It’s best to allow these things to proceed naturally, you agree?”

She returned his regard thoughtfully. “You’re truly hoping my girls will just... fall in love with some nubile young Dwyrkin boy?”

He laughed. “Not a boy, I hope. Your daughters seem fearsome enough to warrant warriors.”

True. “There is something to be said for an easily managed husband, though.”

Maddugh shook his head, waving an elegant hand. “No, no. She would soon grow tired of that. What woman wants to mother a man? The sport in that goes sour far too soon.”

True again. Kailigh pursed her lips. “Well, I guess I’ll see what the pickings are this evening. We’re on the same page, right? Any man who gets too friendly, will find himself on the wrong end of a pointed object.”

“Of course.” He continued to hold her gaze for a long moment. “Tell me, mistress. What credentials must a man present to be considered for your hand?”

Kailigh frowned. “You’re flirting, and it isn’t necessary.”

“Not necessary, but certainly enjoyable. You can’t object to pleasure, can you?”

She shook her head. The man was incorrigible. He caressed the word pleasure, implying all kinds of gooey, satin-slick images with it. “The girls will go along with your mad scheme. I’ll even put on a dress and pretend to be happy about it.”

“What makes you think I care about you putting on a happy face? Your frowns are invigorating. I’ve never known a woman who frowned when faced with an offer of luxury and protection.”

She’d be foolish to take him seriously—but then false modesty was just as foolish and Kailigh knew she was handsome enough. If Maddugh preferred a woman with a bit more brain than beauty, she might toy with the idea of a liaison. She dismissed the thought that he would seriously consider marriage. What for? He had sons, and if he wanted more, it would make better sense to pick from among the Dwyrkin women.

But maybe she should test his so-called offer and see how far it extended. Kailigh ran her tongue around her teeth, eyeing him. “My daughters and I will need to return to town to run down the vermin who shot Cin.”

His expression closed. “That won’t be necessary, mistress. My sons and I will take care of this business.”

That wasn’t the response she’d wanted, but it wasn’t the worst response he could have given.

“I’m used to taking care of things on my own, Maddugh. I’d welcome your gun in a fight, but—”

The Lord rose, the subtle shift of his shoulders screaming loud and clear an intent to leap over the desk and… do what, she wasn’t sure, but it might involve bedrooms and locked doors.

“You’d put yourself in unnecessary danger, Kailigh.” His eyes glinted. “When you should be here, caring for your sick child.”

She didn’t like the dangerous croon in his voice. Kai stiffened. “She’s cared for well enough by your household, and I’ve never hid behind a man’s trousers in my life.”

“I’m certain you’re quite capable.” He bared his teeth in a smile. “However, my future queen—”

“Your what?”

He blinked, innocent. “Didn’t we already have that discussion?”

“No. We did not.”

“Ah? I am remiss. Well, what I was saying—”

Kailigh rose hurriedly. “Well, I’m sure you’ve things to see to. Will you have someone escort us to the party?”

“Changing the subject, Kailigh?” He smiled, inclining his head. “Very well. I don’t ask your daughters to mate against their will, mistress. Remember that. They are free to choose men they can love. But they must choose.” He held her eyes. “Their mother should set a good example in her conduct. And stay home while the warriors exact vengeance.”

She fled his knowing suggestive smile, too discombobulated by the whole queen thing to argue about being told to stay home like a good little girl. A man might toy with the word marriage, or wife—but a ruler didn’t play with the word queen.

Chapter Eight

Kailigh returned to her room, escorting Cin on a walk for a good thirty minutes, fast enough to get blood flowing in the girl’s limbs, but not too fast to tire her out. A bath and a change of clothing and Cinvarra was pleasantly tired. Amnan kept his word and sent a member of his staff to attend to them. Kailigh discussed sizes, styles, and colors with the woman who took careful notes and returned several hours later with a selection of clothing and accessories.

Kailigh surveyed the dresses on the bed, pleased with the variety.

“Is there something here you can wear?” the woman asked, not quite hovering.

Kailigh glanced at her. “Oh, yes. You chose very well.”

The lilac for Cinvarra, with navy embroidery and a flowing skirt. Pretty and romantic, but not too sophisticated for a young woman not yet of age. Women did marry as young as sixteen—and they certainly had babies—but Kailigh preferred her daughters enjoy their childhood to the fullest before sampling the responsibilities of motherhood and running a household. And a man.

A bronze-colored dress of silk for Serephone in a sleeveless corset style to show off strong shoulders and toned brown arms. The skirt would skim above her knees in the front but sweep to the floor in the back. Green for Persia, a high-necked dress that bared her back and hugged her hips to mid-thigh then fell in several layers of sheer fabric to her ankles.

Serephone and Persia came in the room after Kailigh chose, and mostly didn’t argue, though they put on a good enough show for the sake of pride. No young woman wanted her mother dressing her like a toddler—but Kailigh really did have a good eye for these things.

“What are you wearing, Ma?” Persia asked, eyeing a dress on the bed. She lifted it from the pile.

Kailigh glanced at the scarlet fabric and snorted. “I don’t think so. The navy, I think. Red is too formal.”

Persia folded her arms. “I won’t wear mine if you don’t wear the red.”

Kailigh frowned at her daughter. “You’ll do as you’re told and be glad to have a new dress.”

Persia laughed. “Not twelve anymore, Ma. That tone doesn’t work on me. The red.”

Several hours later, she brushed and braided her long dark hair at the back of her neck, not bothering with the tiny pots that had been left for her, clear jars of different powdered minerals meant to enhance the female face. Kailigh had no use for such things, though she knew the girls were having a merry time. For all their talk of not wanting husbands, they weren’t putting up much of a fight with all the dressing up. Not even Serephone.

When they emerged from their room, Kailigh held her breath a moment. Three dark-haired, feral-eyed beauties. And because she was their mother, she held up a finger so each one would twirl. Satisfied their blades were properly strapped in place and adequately covered by the dresses, Kailigh nodded.

“My daughters look like very capable helpmeets. Any man would be glad to have you to wed.”

“You’ve bought into this then?” Serephone asked.

“It’s an opportunity,” Kailigh said. “Wealth, security… it’s easier if you have a partner to build with. There was a time people married on a whim, because they thought themselves in love.”

Serephone grimaced and Kailigh smiled. “Yes. But the point now is to combine resources. Like a business arrangement, only you hope you can be friends and lovers with your partner.” She regarded them, sober. “The terms of our agreement are that at least two of us must wed, and there be at least one child born between us.” She hesitated. “These Dwyrkin are odd. Especially the dragon shifters. If there’s a man I can deal tolerably with, who is interested, then I’ll wed to spare at least two of you girls having to make a hasty choice. Persia, Serephone—Cinvarra is young yet. It would be better if one of you—”

“I don’t mind, Mother,” Cinvarra said. “There are worse things, and it would go easier in town if the men knew we had male relatives.”

Kailigh knew it. The reality made her teeth grit in ire—damned if she couldn’t take care of herself just fine—but the reality was that life was easier for a woman with masculine relatives. And they had to live in reality, not in a land of wishful thinking where their gender was irrelevant. She’d been told that even in the days before the War, women had had to fight for full rights.

“All right. But remember—you aren’t required to do anything more tonight than present yourselves. And you aren’t cows. This isn’t an auction.” She took a deep breath, released it. “Maddugh’s son assured me you are all under the protection of his household, which means the men will be forced to be respectful. But pay attention to how they act after they’ve had a few drinks. That’s always a true enough measure of a man’s innards.”

* * *

Amnan eyed the women, a little put out his father had decided to arrange an entire faire simply to impress one human female. The mother would be enough of a challenge to keep in line, but the eldest daughter… he stared at her from the relative safety of his perch. He had a feeling if he stared at her openly, she would shove a blade in his eye for his trouble. An interesting one, and not entirely sane if he was a judge of such things.

But looking at her, his mouth quirked. He wasn’t as enthusiastic as his father and Hrutha at the prospect of entertainment, but Serephone was interesting enough—if he could keep her from killing someone. Father didn’t seem at all disturbed by the idea.

He’d patted Amnan on the back. “Just watch her knife hand. It twitches when she feels threatened—I’ll have to tell Kailigh to work on that.”

“I’m not sure informing Mistress Kailigh on the shortcomings in her training of her daughter is the best way to win her heart.”

Maddugh grinned. “It’s all in the tone of voice, my boy.”

Amnan sighed. “Young humans should be flooding the faire, as you asked. There will be plenty of beer to loosen tongues, and plenty of opportunities for mischief if you are so inclined.”

“Hmm. No, no, let’s just watch and see if anything starts organically. If there are shenanigans afoot, they won’t waste a chance to strike.”

“Or maybe they are biding their time.”

Maddugh’s eyes narrowed. “Watch Gaston. Especially if he speaks to Kailigh. Once it is known she belongs to me, he may see her as an opportunity. And my son?”

“Yes?”

His father’s eyes snapped. “If you lay a finger on my woman again, I will chomp it off. Go hunt your own.”

* * *

The Dwyrkin liked to start their parties early. In the mining town, a celebration would begin well after dark, when the day’s work was complete and people had a chance to feed their children and wash up a bit. In Maddugh’s bustling town center, shops opened their doors, thresholds decked with what she suspected were boxed decorations just waiting for a chance to display, and workers loitered in the streets.

If his castle was built to hug the mountain, the town was built to hug the castle. They’d walked down a two-lane cobbled highway about a half mile before the shops began. Mostly two-story white-washed buildings of the same rough-cut stone as the castle. Brightly painted doors and shutters along with clay pots of wildflowers decorated many of the buildings. Sheer curtains fluttered in windows above the shops, broadcasting that the shopkeeper’s family lived there. Beyond the town, she knew that clusters of houses sat nestled up in the forested mountains, individuals who preferred to live in the woods and had claimed tracks of land.

“This is quite a show,” Kailigh said, eyeing the bustle. Her eldest daughters clustered around her. Well, they didn’t cluster. Sere looked around with narrowed eyes, fingers twitching in a way that let Kai know her daughter had a knife hidden in her skirts. She nudged Serephone. “Stop that. Any warrior with a decent eye can tell you’re armed.”

Sere stilled, her fingers stopped twitching. Persia glanced at them both and shrugged, then strode forward.

“Might as well dive in,” she said. “I’m heading to the beer garden.”

Kailigh went after her. “What? Beer garden?”

People glanced at the women curiously, some with grins—especially the men—some with more stony expressions. Not everyone liked the idea of Maddugh parading his human guests. Kailigh returned the scowl of one woman, while keeping a sharp eye on the daughter plunging energetically through the crowd. It was crowded enough she was glad Cin had decided at the last minute to stay behind, complaining of a sudden headache.

Amnan snorted. “You’ve never been to a Dwyrkin faire, have you? Just watch your drink.”

She glanced at him. “And what does that mean? Who will be up to mischief?”

He raised his brow, arrogance echoing his father. “You will, after you’ve had a few.”

Kailigh sniffed. “I’ll not be having one of your sneaky Dwyrkin ales. Drinking is for young folk.”

“Of course.” His reply was too bland. “You’re what—forty in human years?”

A colorful tent with sheer sides was erected in the wide circular center of town. It was the same kind of town center as any of the settlements outside a city, designed to be a temporary setting stage for traveling merchants, entertainers—and public executions. Many of the norms of society had degenerated back to medical times in the last several centuries. Once cities had been civilized. Not anymore.

“About forty. This can’t be for us,” she said.

Amnan shrugged. “It is. We can throw together a party at a moment’s notice, really. Any excuse will do. And I remember forty. Ah, to be so young again.”

Kailigh stared at the boy as he walked past her. Well, then. But it made no difference to her. She was a woman grown and a mother responsible for her own household. He was a… prince. Let him work to put food in the mouths of three little bellies, then they could talk about comparative ages. Kailigh followed him, Serephone at her side, and reached Persia just in time to snatch the bottle of brew out of the girl’s hand.

“Ma!”

“No.”

Persia’s eyes narrowed. “I’m of age.”

“Don’t care.” She shoved the bottle to Amnan. “There will be no shenanigans, you hear me? Nope, nope, nope. I won’t have my daughters representing their upbringing poorly.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m twenty-one. You can’t do this to me anymore.”

“Watch.” She ignored Persia’s disgusted glare. “Well, I guess it’s pleasant enough in here. I wonder if there’s lemonade?”

Amnan coughed.

* * *

Kailigh was surprised when humans streamed into the town. They left the beer garden and meandered through the various crafts and booths set up. Serephone detached from Kailigh’s skirt and went to inspect a display of intricately crafted knives while Persia sulked and browsed through a merchant with jars of fragrant tea leaves.

“Father wanted you to feel comfortable,” Amnan said, sipping a clear drink. She had to give him credit; he didn’t seem bored, following her and the girls around.

“You don’t have to stick to us like a burr,” she said, lifting a well-cut denim duster from a stack of gently used clothing, inspecting the hems to see if the seams were hand sewn or machine stitched. “I’m sure there will be no mischief, and we can handle ourselves, after all.”

“I’m not here to protect you from them,” he said, continuing to watch the crowd. “But them from you. We’ve been warned about your temper concerning your daughters, mistress. My father prefers there be no bloodshed tonight.”

His answer satisfied her. Proper respect paid to her abilities didn’t trouble Kailigh—she was gratified her reputation preceded her.

“Regardless, I’d like to wander a bit without a man hovering over my shoulders. Go play, Princeling. Loosen the corset a bit.”

He turned his head and looked at her, a long, steady look she returned, unperturbed. Maybe one of the girls might have been pulled under by that stare—but he wasn’t his father, and she wasn’t one of the girls.

“Very well. I’ll be within shouting distance if some poor fool needs rescuing from you.”

“I can behave myself.” She paused, eyeing him curiously. “I’ve met you—and I’ve seen that ne’er-do-well you call a brother—Hrutha. But I haven’t met the third. Your Da said there were three.”

Amnan’s expression darkened, just a bit. “You’ll see him soon enough, mistress. He doesn’t care for company these days.”

The words were neutral, but she understood that neutrality often hid painful things. And found, oddly enough, that she cared. “Is he well?” she asked “Don’t neglect your family on account of my daughters and I—we can fend for ourselves, and have been for years.”

He inclined his head. “My brother will keep for now, but I thank you for the concern.”

She kept close to the tent at first, wanting to see how her daughters would behave when not under her watchful eye—conveniently forgetting that the two eldest were, at least legally, considered adults. It was a good thing, too, since Persia approached a while later, her brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” Kai asked. She sat on a bench just outside the square with the tent, watching foot traffic go by.

Persia chewed her lip. “I think I saw some of Ruthus’ men.”

“What?”

Persia gave a quick description. “Why would Maddugh let all the humans in? They usually don’t just open the flood gates.”

“It’s supposed to be a special occasion.” Kailigh rose, worried. “What were they doing?”

“Just wandering around. I couldn’t tell if they were scouting or just getting a lay of the land—taking advantage of the opportunity to sneak in with everyone else.”

Kai’s mouth thinned. “Let’s find Maddugh or one of his sons.”

They ran into Amnan first, who evidently hadn’t been that far away himself, since he appeared out of the shadow almost as soon as they began scouring the crowds.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice sharp.

Kai glanced at Persia and her daughter recounted what she’d seen.

Amnan looked thoughtful. “Your youngest child stayed behind, correct?”

Kai nodded. “She wasn’t feeling well at the last minute.”

“What would Ruthus do if he knew Cin was by herself and we were all at the faire?” Persia asked.

“Distraction,” Kai said.

“I’m certain my father had Hrutha set extra guards in that wing of the house. But.” Amnan nodded. “Come, I’d rather be over-cautious than not at all.”

Chapter Nine

It was clear Amnan intended they return to the castle. Kailigh approved. A lazy man might have simply located a guard or constable and handed the work off.

“I’ll try to find Sere and we can catch up,” Persia said, then darted off before Kai could comment. Kai wouldn’t have bothered, as she was learning to pick her battles with her ‘‘adult’’ children.

“Hope she’s fast,” Amnan murmured. “Run?”

Kai grinned. “Why not?”

Unexpectedly, he returned the grin. “Let’s see your paces, mistress.”

And he burst into a flat-out run.

Kai lagged for a split second before dashing after him, heart pumping and a fierce smile pulling at her lips. Maybe it was the lowering sun and the energy of the people who exclaimed and flung themselves out of the way. Or the freedom of fully stretching her legs in a way she couldn’t do in a forest with plenty of tree roots to trip over—but she felt exhilarated.

By the time they ran the long walkway up to the castle and burst into the courtyard, her blood was pumping, breath harsh but even. Amnan glanced at her, a glint of respect in his eyes.

“You run like a full-blooded Dwyrkin.”

She snorted. “I run like I’ve spent every day since I was a toddler in physical labor—and too poor to afford a horse.”

“That would do it, I suppose.”

But Amnan looked around, a frown on his face. “Where’s the door guard?”

Kai stared at the front door, a double-sided monstrosity made of carved wood and iron, uneasy. She recalled having seen two posted when they left, men in loose-tailored trousers and jackets, the kind she imagined it easy to fight—or shift—in, their hands clasped in front of them.

“Side entrance,” Amnan said sharply.

Kailigh followed, inner tension sealing her mouth and sharpening her ears. There should be men in the narrow strips of garden surrounding the castle. It wasn’t traditionally large, but with three stories and a half a city block in length, it was big enough. Over the days, she’d picked out Dwyrkin with shiny eyes apparently lounging under her window, strolling through the stone paths, a little too alert to simply be taking in the fresh air.

“Two at the door, two on each side,” she murmured. “An entrance leading to the guest wing by the roses.”

Amnan glanced at her and nodded, increasing his pace. “You’re observant. That’s a good quality for a—”

He cut himself off and she wondered briefly what he would say—then she heard the high-pitched scream.

Kailigh’s heart stopped, then she burst into a sprint, Amnan at her side. She knew Cin’s screams. The girl was angry-scared, cornered in a battle cry. The last time Kai had heard that was right before…

“Faster!”

Kailigh hit something, and her eardrums popped. Amnan swore viciously.

“Sound shield. A fucking sound shield!”

No wonder everything had been quiet. But now the audial debris of a nasty foot battle flooded the air. The hiss of a deadly steam-powered rifle and the pops of gunshot sounded above them. Men shouting and the snarls of at least one shifted dragon. A window shattered above her head. Kailigh covered her head with her hands, jerking backwards as a body flew from the second floor. A human landed with a sickening thud.

She crashed into the side-door entrance and ran up the stairs two at a time, Amnan hard on her heels. The staircase was enclosed, an oddity for a residential home. Kai had the brief, harried thought that this way, the staff could traipse up and down all day and not disturb the members of the household. She nearly laughed from her own mundane musing, recognizing them as a defense mechanism because fear chilled her spine. She didn’t know what she would find. Amnan urged her to go faster and they burst into the hallway and ran to Cin’s bedroom.

The missing door guards and several other staff battled three humans, Cin struggling as a scruffy mercenary dragged her to the balcony, an arm around her waist. She was unarmed and dressed in her nightgown, long hair streaming over her shoulders. Amnan roared, his fury echoing through the room.

“Use your teeth, girl!” Kailigh screamed, incensed when Cin flinched and grimaced. “Fight!”

They would be having a talk about Cinvarra’s prissy attitude. But the girl shifted, lithe and suddenly no longer doing an impression of a flopping damsel fish in distress, and butted her head backwards right into her attacker’s nose. He yowled, his hand coming up automatically to protect his face, and Cin took advantage to grab the appendage and sink her teeth, drawing blood.

Enemies noted Kai’s shout and she threw herself out of the way of sudden fire. Bits of cloth hit her in the face and she glanced over, mouth gaping, as Amnan charged the shooter, his arms and shoulders massive scaled appendages belonging to a dragon, and not a man.

Pushing to her feet, Kai stayed low and ran straight to Cin, cursing her skirts and vowing not to wear them ever again. A roar split the air, like the distant sound of an airbus, coming closer. Fire grazed her thigh and she stumbled, dragging a heavy chair in front of her as a temporary shield. Steam and Stone, all she had was her blade, and a blade in a gunfight was useless.

“Cinvarra, fight!”

“I am fighting!” her daughter shrieked back, incensed. “Stop telling me to fight!”

“If you would fight, I wouldn’t have to scream at you! You’re spending all week in training!”

Kai watched the struggle, waiting until a dragon guard distracted the man who’d shot at her, and then emerged from her hiding spot, running towards her daughter. But she wasn’t fast enough, nor Cinvarra vicious enough. The man dragged the girl onto the balcony, looked down, and tossed Cinvarra over.

“Cin!”

Kailigh barreled into the abductor, pushing him over the balcony and barely managing to keep from falling over. Four men were at the bottom with a large sheet taut between them, Cin stunned but unhurt. They moved as if to swaddle her in the cloth.

“Oh, hell no.”

Swinging a leg over the railing, ignoring that she was two stories up and had mostly human bones, she clambered over and with a deep breath and gritted teeth… jumped.

A heavy burst of wind buffered her, a claw grabbing her out of the air. She flew, momentarily dizzy as the dragon whipped her around—likely inadvertently, but probably not.

Fire roared over the heads of the abductors as they dropped Cin and scattered, drawing weapons to fire. More Dwyrkin arrived, and Amnan stole Kai’s idea and flew off the second floor with the speed of a man who’d had a running start. She resented his grace as he landed, like a damn black cat, on his feet, long hair streaming over his shoulders.

Kailigh was set down on the balcony, the room now quiet, and shoved inside with a hard claw tip. She stumbled, whirled, and glared as Persia leaped off the back of the obsidian-scaled reptile hovering just long enough for that purpose.

“Stairs, Ma,” Persia said, gaining her feet and running. “I don’t think the Lord liked seeing you jump. It looked fucking awesome though!”

Kailigh glared at the dragon, who returned her baleful look then turned away and dived towards the ground. She followed Persia, catching up with the girl in a matter of seconds. She was just slightly faster than all her daughters, slightly stronger.

“Where’s Sere?”

“Hunting humans,” Persia said. “Keep an eye on town.”

Cin was on her feet, the enemy humans quarreled, when they made the bottom of the stairs. Kailigh drew her blade, bared her teeth, and strode forward.

Maddugh turned, tail dropping in front of her with a certain finality, lip drawing up to reveal a fang.

She glared. “Get out of my way, you oversized forest toad.”

Amnan coughed. “Mistress, we have things well in hand. Further bloodshed will—”

“Make my point.”

She danced around the tail, swiping her scarlet skirts out of the way. Maddugh snorted, and his form contracted. Kailigh took advantage and strode past him, Persia going to Cinvarra.

“Father, you mentioned something about chomping if I put hands on your woman,” Amnan said.

“Get out of my way,” she snarled at the Dwyrkin who formed a guard in front of the prisoners.

An arm slid around her waist. “Temper, Kai,” Maddugh said in her ear. “We need to see to your wound, and Cinvarra. Come, let the guards take away the bad nasty humans.”

He continued to talk, in what he likely thought were soothing, persuasive tones, drawing her away. Kailigh didn’t resist because she knew he was right—Cin came before her desire to cut someone. She noted out of the corner of her eye that Amnan gestured hastily, and the guards ushered the prisoners away. Quickly.

“Bloodthirsty wench,” Maddugh said. “I approve the sentiment, if not the practicality of it in this situation.”

Kailigh sheathed her knife and Maddugh let her go. Persia had an arm wrapped around her sister, Cin having shed the sheet meant to imprison her.

“Ma,” the girl said, a plaintive note in her voice. “This is getting old.”

“It is, indeed, getting old,” Maddugh said, nostrils flaring. He rubbed his hands together. “But, patience, my girl. I—”

“Will do nothing.” Kailigh threw him a hard look. “This is my business. I get to slit the varmint’s throat.”

Maddugh rolled his eyes. “Dwyrkin females, admittedly, are as fierce as the males. I was hoping you might have escaped that side of your nature, but clearly I hoped in vain.” He sighed. “I suppose it is well. I wouldn’t want our children to be weaklings.”

Persia coughed. “Cart before the horse, huh?”

Kailigh ignored them all, dislodging Persia’s arm to wrap her own around her baby, and lead her back up the stairs.

“Get a doc,” she said over her shoulder to Maddugh, ignoring that he was Lord here and this was his house. She just didn’t care.

“We will talk, mistress,” he replied, crisp.

But he brought a physician barely a half hour later, and had also taken the trouble to don pants. Cin was given a brief exam while staff cleared the bodies out of her room.

“We’ll prepare a new room for you,” Maddugh said.

Cin blinked, startled. “That’s a waste. A good scrubbing will get the blood up, and I don’t mind the scorch marks on the walls. A patch.”

Maddugh stared at her. “Ah… if you’re… certain.”

Kailigh snorted. “I didn’t raise my girls to be faint of heart, though—” she glared at Cin ”—this one has been known to try my patience with her silliness at times.”

Cinvarra blinked long lashes, wide pansy eyes innocent.

* * *

“Well,” the physician said, a no-nonsense Dwyrkin female with a long braid and trousers, instead of skirts. “Girl’s good. Come, Lady, let me see the leg.”

Kailigh settled on the bed, a slit cut in her skirt to reveal her wound. She winced from that waste, but figured a seamstress could finagle some decorative stitching and make it look like it was done on purpose. Kailigh glanced at Maddugh, who watched with interest. He was walking around bare chested. Kai wanted to cover Cin’s eyes, at the very least, because Maddugh made innocent bare chest look indecent.

“Nice, toned legs,” Maddugh said, eyes roving up and down her exposed flesh. “You should check for wounds higher up.”

Cinvarra made a gagging noise, as only a seventeen-year-old girl could.

The physician glared at the lord. “None of that, my Lord, or you can leave. Stop that, girl. How do you think you got here?”

Kailigh smiled until the woman prodded the cut. It was just a flesh wound, but it stung. A few stitches later and some antiseptic that made her curse, and Kailigh was pronounced fit.

“I think I’ll come to the faire,” Cin told Maddugh. “I’m feeling much better.”

“You’re insane,” Persia said.

Kailigh concurred. “Persia, you go ahead, I’ll stay—”

“No, Ma,” Cin said. “I need some air. I don’t want to be cooped up for the rest of the night. Please.”

Kailigh paused her protest, studying her daughter’s carefully composed face. The wound hadn’t reopened, and despite all the action, Cin was on her feet, and steady.

“Okay. Maybe a little distraction will help us all recover.”

Cin stood. “I’ll go put on that dress.”

The physician gave brief instructions on the care of the wound. “You look like this isn’t your first go around,” she said, wry, “but I have to go through the spiel anyway.”

When she’d left, Maddugh glanced at Persia and Amnan, the latter having entered the room quietly a few minutes before.

“The humans are secure,” he said to Maddugh.

The Lord nodded absently. “Yes, yes, I’m sure you have it well in hand. Will you two excuse us? I’d like to speak to Mistress Kailigh alone.”

Their children paused, looked between Maddugh and Kai. “Father, I don’t think…”

“Amnan.”

Maddugh’s pleasant tone fooled no one. His son sighed, took Persia’s arm, and escorted her out, leaning down to murmur something in her ear to stall her protests. Kailigh watched them go and folded her arms.

“Well?”

The dragon Lord knelt at the side of the bed—nearest her bare leg, placing a hand on the coverlet near her thigh. His eyes remained on her face, but they glowed. A subtle sheen to match the slight smile on his lips.

“What must a man do to earn your favor, mistress? You fought boldly for your child—my desire has only increased.”

Kai’s breath struggled in her chest for a moment. The practiced, silky tone was that of a master, but no one had ever used such carefully crafted words to attempt seduction before. No man had ever been able to pinpoint her weaknesses. Treat her like a light skirt or a damsel, and she’d scoff. Treat her like a warrior, and she’d melt. A little.

“I don’t know, Maddugh. This doesn’t seem to be the time for sport. I still have a daughter running loose around your faire with who-knows-what predators in the crowd.”

“If not now, when?” He took her hand, lifted it to his lips. “Tell me when I may court you.”

“I—” she squirmed a little, as uncomfortable as a teenage girl with her first man. Even though she was a woman grown having birthed three daughters.

Maddugh leaned forward and she was hyperaware of the sensual mouth, his broad shoulders, and the rough silk of his hair. He still hadn’t bothered to don a shirt and she struggled not to drink in her fill of the strong physique. Struggled not to imagine, even if briefly, what he would look like over her, heated with passion.

His other hand cupped her cheek. “You’re nervous. It’s a compliment for a man that he can make a strong woman nervous.” His slight smile broadened. “I can do other things, Kailigh. Your blushes would be unceasing.”

“Enough with you!” she exclaimed. “Yes, I’m blushing, but only because you are as shameless as a gigolo.”

He grinned, unperturbed. “My dear, I could outclass any common gigolo. I’ve lived far longer, and tormented far more women in my time.”

“I’m certain you have.” She regarded him. “Very well, Maddugh. Take me back to the faire and we… will see.”

His lashes lowered over his eyes, but not before she saw the triumphant narrowing of his pupils.

Chapter Ten

The Lords escorted them back to the faire and the last of the daylight fled behind the mountains, and that was when all the real foolery began. Hrutha appeared with Serephone at his side and beckoned to his brother and father, his expression serious for once.

Maddugh frowned and glanced at Kailigh. “I doubled my men in the crowd. You’re still free to wander, but be even more vigilant, mistress.”

He was awfully calm, almost as if he’d been expecting trouble. It wasn’t that Kailigh didn’t understand, in theory, how to relax and have a good time—but there were too many faces she didn’t recognize, most of them male. It struck her, the inequity between the male and female dragon Dwyrkin. There was three men for every woman. That never boded well. Some foolish females might think it meant they had their pick of mates, but they would soon be disabused of that notion when subjected to the not-quite-friendly advances of desperate males. At least that’s how it worked among the humans, and women who migrated to the mining town looking for easy husbands soon fled if they didn’t learn how to handle themselves.

Still, despite the revelry—and there was plenty—the Dwyrkin did seem a bit better behaved. A bit. They were just as roguish—Kailigh gave a gimlet eye to a few dozen men who dared her crossed-armed company—but didn’t press their attention once rebuffed. It made her like them, and their Lord, a bit better. And well into the evening, when she still had not seen hide nor hair of the troublesome deal-striking man, she managed to relax.

Cinvarra was having a bonny time. She’d slipped Kailigh three times before Amnan shook his head.

“I’ll shadow her, mistress. The more you try to cage her, the more she will slip your leash.”

He walked away before she could blast him for the word ‘cage.’ She wasn’t trying to cage her daughters. She just wanted to see them properly wedded before they did any bedding, and for purely practical reasons. It was hard raising a child alone, and she didn’t want that for her girls.

But she relented, knowing that if the princeling himself couldn’t keep rogues away, then there was no hope for them anyway.

Serephone finally wondered off as well, towards a band of musicians, betraying her intrigue by the tilt of her head and lack of scowl. Young men and a woman with dark hair and electric instruments. The noise they played seemed to please the younger folk, and Kai could somewhat understand the appeal of the caterwauling music. It was all broody and about being misunderstood by the universe. Perfect music for young people with no mouths to feed.

She snorted and moved away, strolling a block before she stopped in front of a small herbalist shop, wondering if she should inquire about the kinds of herbs that helped regulate the monthly flow—and make prevention of accidental pregnancy easier. A woman sat on the poured concrete porch, sipping a brown bottle of brew. She noticed Kailigh and waved her over.

Kai raised a brow at the casual friendliness, but approached. A close look told Kai she was likely human.

“Sit,” the woman said. “I’m Lucide. You’re one of the hybrid girls the Lord put word out about.”

Kailigh sat, realizing as she did that it was highly out of character for her. But the woman’s frank look and casual demeanor was badly threatening.

“Word got out quick,” Kai said. Hybrid?

“Small town.”

Kai snorted. “Lots of people for a small town.”

“He let in the humans, which he doesn’t normally do.” They both knew who the he was. “And the mountain folk always come down where there’s free beer.”

“I imagine.” Kai studied the woman’s attire out of the corner of her eye. Dark washed denim pants, a deep-blue oversized shirt with blousy sleeves and multi-stranded beads around her wrists and neck. “You’re a Traveler.”

“I was.” She jerked a shoulder at the shop. “Been settled here for a while. But I am Traveler enough still.”

The way the woman said those words caused Kailigh’s back to stiffen, just a bit. The casual tone had lifted, enough to indicate this wasn’t a chance meeting.

“Your aura is an interesting one,” the Traveler said.

“I don’t have any gold to cross your palm, Lucide,” Kai said.

Lucide shook her head. “I don’t need your money. I like auras. They’re mostly the same around here. Dwyrkin are frenetic, and all of them think they have a grand destiny awaiting—the Fae are even worse. All that pent up noble blood withering away in their veins. They dream of the day when they can be useless again.” Lucide eyed her. “You’ve got that look about you. Grandparent?”

Kai watched the street, thoughtful. “Don’t know, never knew my grandparents, or my father, for that. It’s true then? The stories that they were stranded here from their home world.”

“Same world, different dimension. It’s true. I had a cousin whose brother-in-law had a grandmother who went over before all the gates crashed closed.”

“Hmm.”

“Your aura, though—it’s closed. And you know what they say. Closed mouths, and all that.”

“I eat from my own hand.”

Lucide shrugged. “I’m sure you’ve done well. But if you relax a bit, you’ll find life goes a bit easier. Sometimes the universe awaits us to be ready to receive help. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Kailigh did the woman the courtesy of not walking away, and remained seated. She was curious anyway. Lucide returned with a necklace in her hand, a thin strip of leather with a polished stone hung on the edge.

She sat down again. “Here, take this, a gift.”

“What is it?” Kai wouldn’t be taking any hedge witch’s offerings, thank you very much.

Lucide’s knowing eyes speared her, an amused sidelong glance. “It’s an energy stone. It will suck up all your negative energy and let you be yourself. Don’t worry—it only holds so much and then the charm goes dead and you’re on your own again.”

Lucide held it out, the necklace dangling from her fingers. Kailigh stared at it like it was a snake.

“Go on, take it. I promise, with the amount of negative energy you’re putting off right now, it will only last the evening. But it should let you enjoy the festivities, at least.”

Kailigh took it and looped it over her head. For some reason, suddenly, the idea of actually enjoying the evening rather than worrying about what could go wrong appealed. Maybe she should just have a beer, eat the free food, listen to the entertainment, and relax. Let the girls enjoy themselves and not worry about traffickers or rowdy miners. Just have fun.

“Thanks,” Kailigh said, and rose. “Hope to return the favor one day.”

Lucide grinned. “Yeah? That’s good then. I like favors.”

* * *

As Kailigh strolled back in the general direction of where she’d left her daughters, she heard a very familiar sound. Freezing for a split second, she burst into a run. She knew the difference between raucous music and a bar fight—she’d seen, and even participated in a few in her day. And had started many once the twins had passed into the legal drinking age and thought themselves ready for the entertainment available in the local tavern. Kai had accompanied them, even if she’d lurked in a darkened corner.

She shoved her way through the crowd, cursing the fact she was unarmed, when a tall, pale-haired man she recognized stepped in front of her.

“This way, mistress,” the Lord’s son said. “I fear the scary one is indulging my father’s hospitality.”

He sounded half-amused, but Kailigh cursed. There was only one reason Serephone would start a fight—either to protect herself or Persia.

They barreled through the crowd until they reached the cleared center of the tent erected over the beer garden. Serephone stood, a bloody blade in her hand. A man stood with friends several feet away, glaring while being consoled.

“Goddamnit,” Kailigh swore. “I thought you said your males were civilized!”

Sere turned at the approach of her mother. “Mother.” She hesitated. “I may have overreacted this time.”

Kai grimaced. She’d been afraid of that. Serephone was touchy even when comfortable in familiar surroundings. She turned to Hrutha. “Where is your brother? Isn’t he supposed to be watching her? Sere has delicate nerves.”

Hrutha laughed. “So I see. Perhaps we can talk the poor fellow into forgoing bloodgilt since she is a guest of the Lord.”

He strolled to the man, lifting a hand in a jaunty wave, and spoke in a low, rapid tone when the man started, bowing.

She approached her daughter, keeping an eye on Hrutha. “Put the blade away, girl.”

It disappeared in Serephone’s skirt. “These men are odd.”

Sere fell silent and soon Persia joined them, breathing fast. “I came as soon as I heard there was a fight. What the hell, Sere?”

The elder twin shrugged, and said nothing.

“Where’s Cin?”

“Left her with Amnan. Candy apples or something. Her hair is all wet. No dignity.”

At least one child was giving a good impression of being normal. Kai watched as the injured man gesticulated wildly, his voice rising. Hrutha crossed his arms, tossing his head so the long, pretty locks of his hair fell over his shoulder.

“He’s interesting, isn’t he, Mother?” Persia asked. “Different.”

Kai glanced at her daughter. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. You want a simple man, one you can easily control. Not the son of a Lord, and certainly not one so… flamboyant. You’d have to have a blade on you all the time to deal with the attention he’d receive from women.”

“No,” Sere said. “Cut one real good the first time, make an example. The rest will know better then.”

Kailigh grimaced, wondering if all this was her fault. Maybe she’d overdone it through the years.

“What’s going on?” a deep, rich voice said behind her.

She stiffened, the hairs on the back of her neck responding. Kailigh turned around. “Your Lordship.”

He glanced at her, then at his son. “I didn’t expect a fight to break out so soon in the evening. Did my son start it?”

“No,” Sere said.

Maddugh waited as if expecting an explanation—but then he didn’t know Serephone.

“There was a misunderstanding,” Kailigh said, stiffly. “Prince Hrutha is addressing the lack of communication on our behalf.”

“I… see. And whose blade did the miscommunicating?”

“Mine.” Sere said. “I put it away.”

“Thank you,” he replied gravely.

Hrutha jogged back to them, expression arch. He glanced at Serephone. “You owe me, crazy sweet. I just paid your bloodgilt with a favor. You can begin repaying me with the dubious pleasure of your company for the remainder or the evening—to ensure you cost me no more favors, My Lady.”

Maddugh sighed. “I hope she’s worth it.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Kailigh demanded.

Maddugh took her elbow, and then Persia’s for good measure, and escorted them from the tent. “Have you eaten? Perhaps this isn’t the best place for three lovely, eligible ladies. In an enclosed area brimming with intoxicated, eager men.”

Kailigh tugged her arm away with a sniff and opened her mouth.

“Do not,” he said, his eyes glinting when she glanced at him, “say I told you so.”

She kept the words between her teeth, but barely.

* * *

Dinner was street vendor food, of which Maddugh also enjoyed, seemingly without reservation. She watched him, curious. He dressed much the same as the other men, in dark trousers, a white shirt and a brocade vest as a nod to the occasion. His clothing was obviously of high quality fabric and stitching, but the style wasn’t any different from any of the other males. There were no ugly Dwyrkin, and many of the males wore their hair long like Maddugh, so if she hadn’t already known him, she would never have guessed he was anything more than a prosperous trader, or maybe a Domer slumming it. There were a few shifters in the cities.

Kailigh excused herself after they’d stuffed themselves with various bites. “I will check on Serephone. Persia?”

“I’ll stay with His Majesty,” her daughter said. “He seems to know where all the best food is.”

Kailigh rolled her eyes. She couldn’t fault the girl’s priorities, and if the Lord couldn’t guard Persia, no one could.

“We’ll be along soon,” Maddugh said, his lips curving in a secret smile. “The evening is not over until your daughters are formally introduced.”

Kailigh paused, held his gaze, then shrugged. So be it. That was the point of the party after all, for the girls to point out a male or two they might not mind getting to know better.

“As you say, Lord Maddugh.”

He caught her hand as she turned away, lifted it to his lips. “I am hoping to avoid a formal introduction for yourself.”

Now, what did he want her to say to that? Eyes narrowed, she pulled her hands away, glad her voice was steady, and steely. “Save your pretty words for the tavern girls, Maddugh. I’m not convinced yet.”

He laughed as she turned her back, though she really hadn’t intended for him to find the comment funny. Kailigh made her way back to the tent where Serephone had stayed with Hrutha. He’d said nothing when she’d called him Maddugh, again, rather than Lord—but Lord was a title among the Dwyrkin. She hadn’t sworn fealty to him, and she wouldn’t make obeisance to him like he was.

Because there was a fair amount of good-natured jostling amongst the crowd from the sheer number of people, and the number of intoxicated people at that, it took Kailigh at least three seconds to respond when a hand wrapped around her upper arm, jerking her to a stop.

Chapter Eleven

Her blade was in her hand a moment later. The human man yelped when she came down hard on a pressure point in his wrist, the hilt of her knife exacting punishment.

“Shhstupid miner shlsut!” he swore, cradling his wrist and glaring.

One of those, huh? “Be on your way, sir,” she replied, voice steely, “and I’ll have no further complaint with your unmannerly behavior.”

“Fuckin’ disgrace, human woman shpreas legs for fuckin’ aliens,” he said, taking a lurching step forward.

Kailigh grimaced. She hated drunks, especially trappers. From his dress and state of grooming, he was no townsman, and his slur indicated he was no miner. She shook her head and turned, the best course of action to just walk away, when he slammed—or staggered—into her.

She used the sudden weight to hurl him off her and managed to keep to her feet despite nearly falling to the ground. Unfortunately, she threw him into a cluster of passing Dwyrkin, who swore and jumped back—likely from his smell.

One of the men glanced at her, eyes sharp, and at the human, sizing the situation up with impressive speed. The man was crumbled on the ground, unconscious. Kailigh shook her head, disgusted.

“Is this human accosting you, mistress?” the Dwyrkin asked. A handsome man, with shoulder-length dark hair threaded with red, and dark eyes. He spoke with confidence, but no arrogance, and appeared to have a hold on his temper as he didn’t immediately curse at her or the drunk. Kailigh approved.

“I am well, thank you, but if you have a constable hereabouts, this gentleman may benefit from a night in a cell to sober up.”

“I concur.” He looked down at the human, distaste crossing his face. “I will summon a constable—I am afraid to touch this man; he looks as if he has fleas.”

He probably did.

One of the other Dwyrkin laughed. “Wouldn’t want to muss your hair, Ravhen.”

A constable was located, Kailigh remained to explain the situation in brief. While the constable slapped the drunk and tried to wake him—apparently, no one wanted to touch the man—Ravhen turned to her. “You’re one of the human girls the Lord has placed under his protection.”

Kailigh sheathed her knife, crossing her arms. “Do I look like a girl to you?”

He grinned. “You look thirsty. Why don’t—”

“I will see to her drink,” Maddugh said, his voice cool.

She turned her head to see him striding forward, expression pleasant but eyes chill, Persia at his side.

The Dwyrkin bowed. “Lord.”

Maddugh glanced at him, then at the constable. “What happened?”

“Drunk,” Kailigh said. “We’ve dealt with it. It need not trouble Your Lordshipness.”

He ignored the sarcasm, fixing her would-be admirers with a look. “What went on here?”

“The drunk human accosted the woman under your protection, Sire,” the male replied. “I offered my assistance as she was alone with no aid in sight.”

Kailigh’s eyes narrowed. The man needled his Lord, and in a way Maddugh couldn’t take offense to without looking like a tyrant. So, though Maddugh was Lord, groveling obeisance wasn’t required as it might have been among humans. Persia moved next to Kailigh, lips trembling as she tried to suppress a grin.

“You have the thanks of your Lord,” Maddugh replied, a trifle sour, a subtle emphasis on the word Lord.

He turned to Kailigh, taking her arm above the elbow. “Mistress. Come with me. I find I am of a mind to head off any future misunderstandings.”

This time when she tried to yank away, he ignored her, as if her tug had no more effect than that of a toddler. She stopped struggling because she didn’t want to look like a fool.

They entered the beer garden tent, Maddugh leading her to where a dance floor had been constructed in the time she’d been gone. He led her to the middle of the floor, people clearing a circle, noise dying down as he stood with an air of expectant impatience.

Kailigh found it fascinating that he didn’t have to call for silence; the wave of quiet fell over the celebration in less than a minute.

“My people, we gathered today to celebrate a rich find in the human settlement—one under our noses for decades with none of us the wiser.” He paused. “It’s been too long since we’ve sent our warriors into the larger world, but it is time to see what goes again.”

Kailigh glanced to the side as Serephone, Cinvarra, and Persia approached, Maddugh’s sons herding them along until they stood with their mother.

“Nevertheless, there are three women with enough of our blood to make viable mates for a Dwyrkin of their choice. Those of you with the bravery—and the manners—who are inclined towards a courtship may plight your case to their mother.” Maddugh smiled, pleasant. “So there is no confusion, the three women available for courting are the three daughters you see before you.”

Kailigh’s brow rose. He let her off the hook. He returned her suddenly interested look with an inscrutable one of his own, and Kai’s eyes narrowed. He was up to—

“The eldest of the women, their mother, is mine. I will take her as my wife, and she will rule at my side.”

The silence in the tent was deafening. Except for the strangled cough in Serephone’s general direction. Maddugh glared at one of his sons.

“The air,” she heard Hrutha murmur. “Something in the air.”

Kailigh stared at Maddugh, wondering why her temper wasn’t exploding at the moment. She should have been cussing, threatening to beat him into the dust. She crossed her arms, glaring. So, he thought she belonged to him, did he? They would see.

When it was clear she wouldn’t say anything, Maddugh’s brows rose, then he turned his attention back to the crowd. “My woman’s daughters are my own—insult them at your peril.” He waved a hand. “Go. Drink, swive… let there be a mess of brats born nine months from now.”

There was raucous laughter and cheering at the end of his speech. It was the strangest thing, a Lord urging his folk to fornicate and make babies. She supposed, if their numbers were as few as rumored, that social norms such as premarital sex went out the door in favor of getting in all the attempts at reproduction as possible—whether they could wed or not.

But there would be no unwed shenanigans with her daughters.

He jumped off the platform and crooked a finger at her, with a quirk of his brow, designed to aggravate her enough to follow him just so she could give him a piece of her mind.

Kailigh marched towards him. “Just what is the meaning of the bit of public foolishness?” she demanded.

His grabbed her waist and swung her to the ground—not that the four or six inches would have been a hardship. “Why, mistress, I was certain I spoke clear—”

“Don’t sass me.” Kailigh shoved a finger towards his chest. “What are you up to? I told you I was in no mood for your flirtations.”

“I am not flirting. Why aren’t you convinced my intentions are honorable when I’ve declared them in front of my people?”

“You’re stuck,” Amnan muttered, passing by with Persia. Her daughter threw her a half sympathetic, half gleeful look. “Can’t deny a dragon Lord who has publicly declared his troth.”

“What?” Kailigh exclaimed. “That’s the—”

“Let’s find a quiet place to talk, hmm?” Maddugh took her arm, eyeing her thoughtfully. His eyes dropped to her chest. “I’m a little disappointed in your reaction to my public declaration—I was anticipating more entertainment. What is this you are wearing around your neck, mistress?”

Kailigh looked down, startled. She’d forgotten about the necklace. “A Traveler’s charm, to… suck up negative energy so I can enjoy myself for the evening.”

“Really?” His teeth flashed. “I must send this Traveler my compliments on the handiwork. I wonder if she has other mood-enhancement offerings.”

Kailigh considered, ignoring his subtle insinuation. Her mood was much… mellower. “That damn woman,” she said, without heat. “When this wears off, I will be furious.”

He’d led her to a section of the faire that was less crowded, the vendors and entertainers having thinned somewhat since the bulk of the noise was around the beer garden and beyond. Kai glanced up at the sky beyond the peak of the mountains surrounding them. The night was clear, moon bright with its accessories of winking stars.

“Kailigh.” She turned her attention back to Maddugh, who stared at her with a mixture of amusement and displeasure. “You aren’t paying attention to me at all, are you?”

She sighed. “You’ll do what you will do. There is no point in me being upset about it.”

His eyes narrowed, the usual half mocking, half cocky turn of his lips straightening into something else. “I see. It’s been a long time since I had to work to seduce a woman.”

Her mood might be lighter, but her brain hadn’t shrunk. Kailigh’s hand slid towards her thigh. He caught her wrist, pulling her towards him.

“None of that, mistress.”

“Well, then let me go. There are plenty of women—” She gestured vaguely with her free hand. ”—out there willing to play with you. Why plague me?”

His eyes were inscrutable, though a smile curved his lips once again. “You aren’t boring.”

She expected the kiss. He’d given her enough time to put up an actual objection, after all. Kailigh had a notion he was a man who would take severe exception to an accusation of forcing his attentions on a woman.

But as his mouth lay over hers, she found herself wanting to feel what it would be like. Strong hands circled her waist, having released her wrist. The tall, hard body flush against hers, a warming comfort in his strength. His hair fell in her face a bit and Kailigh reached up to tug it aside, fingers tangling in the strands, as silky as a lady’s.

“No protest?” he whispered against her lips.

“I’m beginning to think you’re a man who likes a bit of a fight.”

He grinned, quick and dark, “A bit,” then silenced her.

They weren’t alone. She heard the whisper of feet as people passed them, but there were no snide remarks or catcalls, no huffs. And then she forgot where they were because he swept her away with the gentleness of his touch, soothing as his hand roved up and down her spine. Kailigh relaxed, melting into him. She’d thought he’d be heavy, demanding, an alpha ruler bent on domination, but the rogue was smarter than that.

He was gentling her, like a damn mare.

“There, that wasn’t so bad,” he said, pulling away after a minute. “You didn’t melt into a puddle of green goo like Hrutha said, after all.”

Kailigh jerked back, itching to smack him. She sniffed. “At least your breath didn’t stink that bad.”

That wiped the grin from his face. “My breath—you fiend!” Maddugh glared. “I should put you in the tower for such disrespect.”

“You don’t have a tower. Come on, I must find my daughters before they get up to similar nonsense, but with men not as canny as yourself.”

Kailigh still didn’t trust his ulterior motives—especially not now, but it seemed his intentions were at least honorable on the surface. What his long game was, she’d have to dig to find out. But she was more or less convinced she didn’t have to worry about whether he had a key to the lock on her door. She was convinced he wasn’t that type. For all his other faults, of which she was certain he had many. He was male, after all. It was inevitable.

Chapter Twelve

She slipped away from Maddugh when one of his sons spoke to him again. Kailigh now recognized the undercurrents of something going on under her nose—Maddugh was distracted, having assigned his sons to escort her most of the evening. For a man who claimed to be intent on courting, there was only one reason for that—he had other business going on simultaneously. It might have to do with her, and it might not.

But the royal dragons were involved in something. There was too much deliberate movement and too many serious conversations held in quiet corners, as if they were coordinating information.

Kailigh wanted to do some scouting of her own and was irritated when Gaston stepped in her path.

“Why are you skulking about, Mistress Kai?” he asked.

The foreman was dressed as he usually was, a dark, overly expensive coat for his station, his hair carefully styled and shoes shined. As if he were a rich city dweller and not a working man in an Outland coal mine, no matter how lofty his job title.

“Gaston.” Her voice was flat. “You have an amazing propensity towards questions that are none of your business.”

White teeth gleamed. Shark teeth. “Well. As it happens, I have business with yourself.”

Kailigh stared. “What possible business do you have with me?”

“Shall we walk?”

She wanted to say hell, no. But… this had been a strange day, and an even stranger evening, and she didn’t feel in a position to just ignore Gaston behaving oddly. His usual flirtatious mien was dampened, as if he was putting on an effort to be charming.

“All right,” she said, and he blinked.

“Thank you. Refreshment?” he asked as they passed a vendor.

“Get on with it,” she said. “I’m busy.”

“Of course, of course. I was in the tent with Lord Maddugh made his announcement.”

Kailigh blinked. “I’m at a loss—what business of yours is my personal life?”

“As you know, I am Lord Maddugh’s foreman. If you and he wed, you will be his wife. Lady here, and my employer. ‘Rule at my side’ I believe were his words?”

Kailigh grimaced.

Gaston smiled, bland. “Even so. I feel you are in a position—having lived with us townspeople—to understand certain nuances of life down the mountain that perhaps the Lord is unaware of.”

She didn’t like where the discussion was going, but remained silent. Let him talk himself into a noose.

“I recently presented him with information regarding a business opportunity which would be lucrative for himself and for the community—you know how desperately we need a continuous influx of capital.”

“If you’re asking me to intervene in matters that have nothing to do with me, you’re wasting your time.”

“I understand you may not understand these things—women aren’t required to, of course.”

Kailigh gritted her teeth, keeping words from tumbling past her lips. She should set a good example for her daughters, and conduct herself with dignity. If possible.

“But I have confidence in your intelligence and discretion. I’ve drawn up a proposal on behalf of an interested third party to expand production at the mine and transport the excess to Denver—you’re aware a new Dome is being developed? Yes, well, if you would read the proposal, and if you feel it in the best interests of your husband and family, of course… I would be grateful. And the third party.”

Gaston paused, turned to face her. “Our gratitude would extend to ensuring some small nest egg in your name and the names of your daughters is set aside, to secure their futures. You never know how marriages might turn out these days. Men have so many distractions.”

She didn’t like Gaston. And even though his words sounded innocent enough, if self-serving, she didn’t want anything to do with him. In fact, she was searching for teeth hidden in velvet. His kind always had a trap waiting for the unwary.

“I won’t do business with you, Gaston. You can just clear that idea out of your head. Good evening.”

She began to walk past him when he grabbed her arm. “Don’t be so hasty, Mistress Kailigh.”

“Get your hand off me.”

He lowered his head, a smile on his face, whispering words as if they were two lovers, paused for a bit of flirting. “There are those who feel Lord Maddugh has power and wealth he shouldn’t—wealth and power that should belong to humans. There may be trouble coming, and I wouldn’t want to see you and your daughters caught up in it. Do the right thing, Kailigh. The smart thing.”

“Or else?” She heard the ‘or else’ in his voice, read it in his eyes.

Gaston stepped back, releasing her. “Don’t be silly. I’m not threatening you—simply offering an advantageous business proposition.”

“I don’t like you, Gaston. I think you’re amoral, and likely a cheat as well.”

He laughed. “For a woman who is happy to fuck a beast, you have a high opinion of your morals, Kai—too amusing. I’ll be in touch.”

And with a gentle smile, he bowed and slipped away into the crowd.

* * *

She told Maddugh about the conversation the following morning. It had taken her overnight to decide what, if anything, to tell him. But in the end, it seemed prudent, so at least she could never be charged with withholding information.

“That’s what you get for opening your big mouth in public,” Kai said.

Maddugh and Amnan exchanged an impassive look. “I’ll have another look around in the morning,” the son said. “Too many of the human eyes were more alert than a faire warrants.”

“You think Gaston had men scouting the town?” Kailigh asked. “What for?”

“What would you do if you were a little man with ambition and you thought your Lord held too much power?” Maddugh asked, voice soft.

“But…” she stared at him, uneasy. “The miners wouldn’t rebel. They need to feed their families.”

“We’ll see.”

Amnan excused himself from the breakfast table. Maddugh turned to Kai once his son was gone. “I thought we might enjoy the morning air—last night was eventful.”

Her brow rose. “A turn around the garden?” Really.

The Lord smiled, bland. “I was thinking something a bit more private. A walk in the forest, perhaps.”

He made it sound so innocent. Kailigh knew better. But… what was she protesting about? A rich, single, handsome male showing interest? He didn’t want her homestead, he wasn’t covertly eyeing her daughters and thinking wedding her would be a feast. So, what was her real problem?

Maddugh just wouldn’t be a manageable kind of husband.

“What are you thinking, Mistress Kailigh?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Never mind. When do we leave?”

“I have some work this morning… at lunch time? We’ll pack a basket.”

How sweet. “You do know I’m not twenty anymore?”

Maddugh rose, approached her. Leaned down and placed a soft, fleeting kiss on her lips. “That doesn’t mean you’re not a woman. And how many times must I tell you? To the Dwyrkin, you are barely even old enough to consent.”

Kailigh snorted, swiping at him as he danced out of the way with a grin. “There will be no need for consenting, Maddugh,” she called as he strode out of the breakfast room.

He poked his head back through the door. “Is that a challenge? I accept.”

* * *

Amnan swooped into the large, dusty clearing and shifted, not bothering with stealth this time, and waded directly into the fight. A few of the smarter two-leggeds scattered, recognizing him instantly.

“Get Gaston!” someone yelled.

Yes. Get Gaston.

Grabbing one of the brawling men by the neck, Amnan lifted and threw him backwards into a cluster of clucking onlookers—who should have been working. The human he’d pulled the now-dazed man from staggered to his feet, swiping at the blood streaming down his nose.

“What’s the problem here?” Amnan growled. “You have quotas to meet.”

“Get out of my way,” another man snapped and Amnan turned to see a thick-chested man shove his way through the crowd. “Your Lordness. I’m the supervisor on duty—Booker’s the name. Gaston’s got some folks he’s touring around the mine.”

Did no human know the proper forms of address? Kailigh butchered it each time it came out of her mouth—though he’d begun to suspect that was on purpose. “I didn’t authorize any tours.”

The supervisor shrugged. “That so? Seems like we should have a talk then.”

“You should keep your mouth shut,” a bystander yelled.

The man whirled around, his face hard. “Who shouted? You want to come meet me face to face?” Scanning the crowd, he scowled. “Who was it?”

Amnan touched Booker’s shoulder. “Is there trouble here I need to be aware of?”

Booker shrugged again. “Let’s talk while we find Gaston.” He raised his voice. “And the rest of you—day break is OVER!”

Amnan waited until the men dispersed. “What is day break?”

“Something new,” Booker replied. “Come on, let’s get you a hardhat—unless you don’t need one being—” the man wiggled his fingers ”—you know.”

Amnan stared. “A dragon? Our heads, while harder than most, still are vulnerable in human form to things like cave ins.”

“Might not want to bandy that info around too loud.”

Booker led him to a shed, unlocked it, and rifled through the content to withdraw a hat. Amnan took it with a grimace—it didn’t smell healthy—and put it on. “Day break?”

“Morale booster,” Booker said as they walked towards the mine entrance. “Give the boys a bit of sunlight during their shift, helps with production. Used to do lunch right there in the shafts, but they were getting antsy.”

“Seems like there’s a lot of this antsy going around.”

Booker jerked a shoulder. They entered the mine, a world of flickering gas lamps and the clang of metal against stone. Primitive. But effective.

And the stench… Amnan hated the mines.

“Someone’s been stirring the workers up. Talking a lot about how profits should be shared, and maybe if we had new ownership… I know it’s bullshit. Exchanging one master for another never did anything but disrupt the process.”

“Hmm. If there are complaints, why aren’t they presented to my father?”

Booker stopped. “Gaston said he did.”

“Gaston is a liar. He presented profit and loss projections.”

“Yeah. I kinda figured that after the faire. A Lord doesn’t throw that kind of shindig if he’s a skinflint—or invite the men he’s screwing to wander around his home at will. So.”

So, indeed.

* * *

Maddugh found her wandering the grounds a little before noon. She’d glimpsed the kitchen gardens from her room the other day and had meant to take a closer look, but the rosebushes on the way there had distracted her.

“Kailigh?”

She glanced at him and rose from her couch, wiping hands on her thighs. She’d indulged her vanity and chosen to don a dark green skirt with a matching short-waisted jacket. Tiny black buttons and embroidery on the cuffs accentuated the design, and the cut and stitching allowed her to forgo a corset. She’d started to draw on dark denim pants, but had changed her mind at the last second. Denim was for working days—not for a picnic with a Lord.

Maddugh watched her curiously. “You enjoy gardening?”

“I enjoy eating.” Her lips curved. “But yes, I grow flowers for pleasure as well. Though the roses make an elixir we’ve sold in the past.”

“It seems a gentle pastime.” He inclined his head and held out a hand. “Are you ready?”

Kailigh took the hand readily enough and he drew her along. The trek this time led them the opposite way from her home and the town. Instead, they dived into the forest and with the sunlight streaming through the trees and the song of birds fluttering in the canopy, it was almost as if they entered another time.

Or maybe it was just the dragon at her side who made it seem new.

He seemed content not to speak, glancing at her occasionally, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. And slowly, Kailigh relaxed. Her daughters were more or less safe, everyone was fed, and she had at her side the baddest beast for miles around. If there was any time she could relax her guard and simply enjoy the day, it was now.

They emerged from the forest on the edge of a crystalline blue lake, small enough for a leisurely swim across, the sun bursting overhead and sparkling on the still surface. Baby mountains rose in the back and for a moment, she feared to travel to the other side, climb those mountains and see what was beyond. But she knew what was beyond. Seattle, the only Dome in the Pacific Northwest, and the Outlands. Maddugh’s mountains, the surrounding forest, was an oasis. It was why, despite its issues, she’d never left.

“You’re smiling,” he murmured. “Share your thoughts?”

“I never knew this was here,” she said, stepping forward. “How could I have not known this was here?”

“I’m glad it pleases you. I come here when I can—usually not as a man, though.”

Kailigh turned. “Are you?”

“Pardon?”

“A man. Are you even a man? I don’t know much about your people, only that they came through the worlds when the War ripped the veil between the dimensions.”

She held his eyes, not wanting to miss even the flick of a lash. Maddugh moved forward, grace and confidence. He took her hand and lifted it to his chest. Her palm flattened against his hard pec, the thrumming of his heart met her fingers.

“My heart beats,” he said. “My blood is red.” He smiled. “My passion hot.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked in a whisper as his head lowered, his eyes trained on hers.

His lips hovered over hers. “Courting a woman worth a dragon’s weight in gold.”

Kailigh’s lids drifted shut and her senses became hyperaware of the scents of the forest, the warm beam of sun on her cheek, the rapid beating of the organ under her hand. Her heart sped up to match his own. He suckled her bottom lip, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and pulling her flush against his body, trapping both of her arms against him.

Kailigh didn’t struggle, didn’t pull away. She sank into him, wanting to know if her body would truly wake for this man—if his would truly wake for her. And she had her answer soon enough with the stiffness pressing against her belly. She inhaled, not quite ready for things to progress beyond a kiss. Not quite.

Maddugh stepped back without relinquishing her hand. “Come.”

Chapter Thirteen

He led her to the lake’s edge. A thick blanket lay spread on the ground, secured at the corners with hunks of rock. Two cushions and a small woven basket. Her lips curled. Even if he’d had his staff set up the picnic, the fact that he’d thought of such a sweet, old-fashioned gesture warmed her. And for once, she didn’t tell herself that the gesture was better suited to one of her daughters rather than wasted on herself.

She wasn’t dead, and she wasn’t old. And if she hadn’t already proven that she was a woman by birthing and raising three girls… what proof did anyone require? Why did she keep trying to convince herself her prime years were over? They weren’t, and even if she was a bit past the age most human women settled down with a man—she wasn’t dead yet. There was plenty of life left in her, plenty of passion. And, if her and Maddugh’s suspicions were correct, she wasn’t even fully human. Meaning that physically, she might not be past her youth.

Kailigh glanced at Maddugh, who watched her with warm, sensual eyes, the narrow pupil slits round again.

“Wait until you see what’s inside,” he said, smug.

Settling on the blanket, she arched a brow, curious. What would make a Lord, the richest man for several counties, feel smug?

When he pulled a gleaming bottle of wine out of the basket, and a box of chocolates with a name on the label she recognized as a premium brand that had survived even the War, her eyes widened. These chocolates cost a month’s land lease.

“I’m impressed,” she said. It didn’t matter if he was rich, and could afford it—plenty of rich men were cheap, and would no more shower a woman with a frivolous gift than they would a dog.

And then he pulled out a square, pale-blue box.

“Maddugh.” She heard the amusement in her own voice, and the fine tremor. “All of this isn’t necessary. I’m a practical woman.”

“Be quiet,” he said. “You may be practical, but I am not foolish. Only a woman testing a man tells him not to bother.” His eyes glinted. “It’s a trap—to see if I’m stupid enough to believe your shameless lies.”

Kailigh took the box, held it in her hands, and stared. The constable had brought her a loaf of fancy bread and a container of honey butter as a gift years ago, when she thought she might want a husband after all. It had been a sweet, practical gesture to make towards a working single mother. Food to feed her family. But Maddugh was already providing food, shelter, clothing even.

She opened the box and said nothing for a long minute.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

The necklace was two delicate chains of platinum with pearls interspersed between the links. A dragon dangled on the end, holding a ruby in his claws and with a winking diamond for an eye.

“It’s perfect,” she said. “Forgive me for my silence. I’m unused to receiving gifts of this type.” Or at all.

Because it was perfect. Just enough that she could wear it on an average day and feel a little special, or don it for an evening’s entertainment and not feel underdressed. Anything gaudier and she would have tucked it away in a drawer.

Kailigh looked up. “It’s perfect,” she repeated. “Will you put it on for me?”

He took the necklace from the box, and she leaned forward so he could clasp it around her neck. “It’s not a brand,” he said. “But when you wear it, they will know who gave it to you.”

She was certain ‘they’ would. Leaning forward again, she placed a kiss on the edge of his mouth.

His lips turned down. “Surely—”

Kai lifted a hand. “You aren’t about to pout that I owe you a kiss in exchange for the gift of jewelry, are you?”

His eyes narrowed. After a moment, “Of course not.”

She smiled. He sounded far too sulky to be a man his age. “Good.”

He also had a selection of cheeses and fresh fruit as well as crusty bread in the basket. She relaxed enough to stretch on her back and munch while staring at the clouds as they passed.

“I wonder,” Maddugh said, “if our first child will be a girl? What will a girl be like?”

Kailigh choked on the grape she was chewing, and had to sit up. He patted her back. “Didn’t Persia mention something about a cart and a horse?”

He waved a hand. “It’s only a matter of time. We’re both in our prime and there’s absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t give into me any day now.”

The arrogance… but it was such an open, good-natured arrogance she couldn’t drum up the energy for indignation. Kailigh sighed, and laid back down. “Well, you met us because of what it is ‘like.’”

His expression darkened. “That will never happen again. You were without protection—” He stopped talking when her gaze turned pointed. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, woman. I know you can defend yourself. If you’d been mine—”

She rolled her eyes, and turned her head to look at him. “You likely would have driven me insane. We probably wouldn’t still be married.”

He snorted. “That would never happen. I keep what is mine, Kailigh.”

“It’s not like I’m a chair, to be kept, or a pretty plant. And by the way, the condition of your house plants is deplorable.”

“Forget the plants.”

He rolled, covering her body with his, a movement so quick she hadn’t had time to even react. “Maddugh…”

He glared down at her. “When we wed, Kailigh—and we will wed—then you are subject to my commands.” He smiled, dark and sensual. “As your husband, and as your Lord.”

She just couldn’t take him seriously. “All right, whatever you say.” Kai paused, then smiled sweetly. “And were you planning on dragging me to the altar? Is the process no longer voluntary?”

He lowered himself over her, an inch at a time. “I know what the problem is.”

“Really. Enlighten us.”

“You need more convincing. I haven’t properly displayed my wares.”

His toothy smile told Kai exactly what wares he referred to a split second before he claimed her mouth in a kiss.

He kissed her as if he owned her, as if her submission was a forgone conclusion. Kai knew it was an act—the tension in his body wasn’t just desire. It was his healthy respect for the fact that her fingers were mere inches from the blade hidden in her skirt.

Smart man.

Kailigh relaxed her body, wrapping her arms around his neck in the clearest signal of non-murderous intent she could think of, and then stopped thinking at all. Only felt, the satin caress of his lips on hers, the heat and weight of his body subtly pressing her into the ground. The silk of his hair brushing her face, the strands a little too long for human fashion. And his skin burned under his clothing, an intense heat followed by rippling under the muscles. As if an inner beast was snapping to get out.

She opened her eyes to meet the twin suns staring down at her, pupils’ narrow slits, face taut. Maddugh’s hand bunched in her skirt, pulled it up slowly, his face daring her to tell him to stop.

She wouldn’t—but she would set boundaries. “No sex.”

“What’s wrong with sex?”

Her brow rose in response to his flat query, and the puff of brimstone air he snorted. “Nothing. I just want to hammer home a point—by your position in life, you are spoiled.”

He stared at her, his expression a blend of stony and raw sexual promise. She tapped his nose and he flinched, snapping at her finger.

Her eyes widened. “Hmm… the man is slipping a bit, eh? Anyway… my point?” She bared her teeth in a smile and pointed to her chest. “Not easy.”

His shoulders swelled and he lowered his face until their noses touched. “I already offered to wed you, woman.”

She sniffed. “Even worse. After marriage, men think they no longer have to try at all.”

Maddugh swore, in words she didn’t recognize as any human language. She’d heard a few in her time, mostly from traveling salesmen. Kailigh frowned.

“No sex,” he snarled. “But I want something, mistress.”

“Oh?” The fingers in her skirt tensed. “You’d better not rip my clothing, Maddugh!”

“No sex, no rips. No, no, no.” His voice was dark, mocking. “Be quiet.”

The air on her thighs warned Kailigh even before he pushed them apart, sliding down until he was in position to place a single, scoring kiss on her inner flesh. Kailigh inhaled. If he was about to do what she thought he had in mind…

Her eyes closed, and she sank into the purest bliss she’d ever known in her life. She figured she deserved it by now.

* * *

Boneless, she lay draped on Maddugh’s chest for some time before he stiffened. A moment later, her ears registered the beat of wings in the air, a sound becoming more and more familiar.

Maddugh sighed. “My son. It seems work calls.”

Kailigh lifted her head, placed a kiss on his chin. “It always does, draco.”

She slid off him and packed up the basket as a dragon landed nearby, the sapphire of his scales glittering in the sunlight. The dragon shimmered, contracting in the bone-crunching, muscle-popping contortion that caused an unashamed shudder.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Kailigh said.

Maddugh eyed her sideways. “Will it be a problem?”

“No. I just won’t ever get used to it.”

He shrugged and Amnan strode forward. Leaner than his father, and darker, a litheness to his steps that, shifter or no, implied a certain youthfulness.

“There will be trouble from the humans,” the son said, glancing at Kai.

“I’ll go—” she began and Maddugh raised a hand, silencing her.

Amnan shrugged. “I gather Gaston is planting the seeds of a rebellion.”

“Of what kind?” Maddugh asked.

“I don’t know. A strike? Maybe. Something less peaceful? We’ll have to wait and see.”

Maddugh sighed. “I hate waiting. Can you encourage things to move along?”

“Precipitate the situation?” Amnan’s brow rose, then his mouth pursed. “If I hasten Gaston’s timeline, it could backfire.”

“Hmm. If an enemy plants a bomb, make sure—”

“You’re the one to set it off.” Amnan backed up, shifting. “Father. Lady.”

She watched him gather his weight and launch into the air, powerful forelegs powering his thrust. It occurred to Kailigh that she would be his stepmother if she accepted the Lord’s suit. Huh.

Maddugh turned to her. “I want you and the girls to stay in the castle for the time being.”

“What?”

“I’m handling a situation and I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

Kailigh shook her head. “I understand, but I have my own business to deal with.”

“The trafficker. Allow me to take care of that nuisance as well. I have been remiss, after all—it is my town, no matter what illusion the humans live under.”

Was the man mad? “Absolutely not.” If she had her own fire, she’d be puffing breaths of brimstone as well. “If you think I will sit back and watch my ass spread while—”

He grabbed her shoulders. “Kai, be reasonable. You’ve already been outgunned once—killed if I hadn’t stepped in.”

And wasn’t he a gentleman to remind her of that? “I’ve lived in this mountain town nearly all my adult life, and had several almosts. I won’t stop taking care of business just because of a few kisses between us.”

His expression darkened. “Not a few kisses. A vow.” His hand slid from her shoulder to bunch the fabric right over her heart. “You’re mine—I won’t see you harmed.”

The sentiment was sweet, if impractical. And she was also sure that the sweetness would wear off, in time. Kailigh stepped back. “If you try to chain me, then I’ll run. Vow or no, and take the consequences. My daughter was shot—this is a matter of honor and my reputation. I will not allow anyone to think they can get away with violence against my household.”

They stared at each other, fire flickering in Maddugh’s eyes. “Stubborn female,” he said and stepped back. “And you sound just like one of those damn Fae. I’m fully convinced that is the source of your blood.”

He turned on his heel and strode away. “Leave the basket,” he shouted over his shoulder.

She sniffed, unperturbed by his temper, and picked up the chocolates, following him in a more leisurely pace.

Chapter Fourteen

Kailigh snuck out of the castle long before the sun rose. She dressed in trousers and a shirt, lacing up her leather vest and checking the pockets to ensure all her little… tools were where they were supposed to be. She threw her sturdy poncho cape on to hide the flintlock, and left the rooms.

She made her way to the town gate and was stopped, predictably. She had expected that—she hadn’t expected the squinty-eyed questioning.

“Do you have the Lord’s permission to leave the safety of the town, mistress?” the guard asked.

She stared at him. “And since when do I require permission? I am no subject of his.”

The man’s elegant Dwyrkin face tightened. “I must detain you until I can—”

“If you put a hand on me, boy, I’ll chop it off at the wrist.”

They stared at each other. “Not much you can do about this without risking a limb, is there?” she asked. “I’m positive the Lord would be unhappy with that outcome, since he would be short a guard. I’m certain that as soon as you step aside and I leave, you can scurry off to your master and tell tales.”

He stepped aside, to Kailigh’s surprise, and bowed. She’d expected to have to put up more of a fight, but maybe he’d just been trying her. She shrugged and broke into a swift jog, wanting to reach her house before the sun rose, to scout the perimeter. They’d been gone long enough of less savory individuals—and those with limited intellect—to begin snooping around. She’d have to ask around and see if any of the Dwyrkin specialized in magical barriers, and how much they’d charge.

She circled the perimeter of the house twice, squatting in the bushes for several long minutes to listen for the sounds of anyone moving around inside. When she was reasonably confident the house was clear, she approached, blade in her hand, and slipped in the back door. After a quick check of each room, she was satisfied.

The place hadn’t been ransacked, which was the second surprise of the morning, and nothing appeared to be missing. Hmm. She wondered if Maddugh had sent out word to the town. She wouldn’t put that high-handed kind of thing past him.

Kailigh spent a happy hour talking to her vegetables, doing a bit of weeding and checking the leaves of her greens for pests. A few were ready for picking—she had to decide if she should sell to one of the inns in town, or stay home long enough to can the produce. It seemed as if the wind blew in the direction of taking up permanent residence with Maddugh. Her own lack of pushback surprised even her, but hadn’t she just complained to herself days ago, about how tired she was? Not physically tired—but mentally. The constant burden of doing it alone, even though the girls were mostly adults now. There were other problems to deal with concerning adult daughters. Like kidnappers, and unexpected grandbabies.

She stared at the ground, the reality of the situation slamming down on her. Her daughters would have to marry. And soon. None of their lives would ever be the same. And, oddly enough, she was okay with that. There would, for once, be plenty of other people around to help her. Maddugh, his sons. Eventually her sons-in-law. Kailigh exhaled, and smiled at a carrot

“Mother!”

Kailigh jerked, surging to her feet as Serephone and Persia burst from the forest.

“Where is Cinvarra?” she asked. “You left your sister alone in the castle?”

She’d strangle them. Not that she didn’t trust the dragons, she did. But Cin was still a young, beautiful, courtable female with her mother and elder sisters conveniently gone… it would be the perfect time for a bit of foolishness. And Kai knew damn well it was likely to be Cin who initiated said foolishness.

“The funny blonde prince is with her,” Persia said. “Just listen. My friend at Sally’s telegraphed. Two of Ruthus’ men got off the train.”

Her instincts perked. Sometimes men were sent ahead of an airbus to scout before the main crew arrived. All they needed was one flapping mouth to give them a clue when Ruthus would be back. Then Kai could be waiting. “Let’s go then. Wait—get the guns under the floorboards. And all the ammo.”

* * *

They were halfway to town when a dragon swooped down from the sky. She was becoming suspicious he had a tracking device planted somewhere.

The women skidded to a halt, Kailigh squinting up into the dimming sunlight with a sigh. The dragon was black, scales glimmering with a rainbow of color in the early sunlight—and he didn’t look friendly. A long neck swung towards her as wings temporarily blocked the sun, the jaw on the end of that neck snapping.

“The round in my shotgun will go through even your tough hide, I’ll bet,” Kailigh said. “You’d best not snap at me again.” Especially if they would wed. Best to train him now.

The dragon constricted, the shift a disturbing backwards morph of muscles and scale and skin. Kailigh stared, her expression stony as an angry, naked male strode towards her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Maddugh snapped. “There are still traffickers in town. Probably waiting for you to show your foolish head to finish what they started.”

“Telegram,” Persia said. “We’re going after the varmint who shot Cin.”

Maddugh rolled his eyes, crossing magnificent arms across his wide chest. “You aren’t going anywhere—”

“Now wait just one damn minute!” Kai exclaimed.

“—without me.”

Even worse. “If you think I will have the dragon Lord underfoot, you’ve got another thing coming. I have enough to do keeping my girls out of trouble without keeping an eye on you as well.”

She kept her eyes trained ruthlessly on his face. She wouldn’t look down. Not even a peek.

“Need clothes for town,” Sere said.

His brow rose and he shrugged, then trotted off the path and into the forest. “Stay put!” he yelled over his shoulder. “I dropped my pack a few feet from here.”

Kailigh snorted, fully intending to ignore his order.

“We could use the extra muscle, Ma,” Persia said.

“Nice muscle,” Sere murmured.

Kai glared at both her daughters, but waited. A man with them—as much as it galled her to admit it—might tip the scales in their favor at least in terms of numbers.

The Dwyrkin Lord gave her a look as he emerged from the forest. “I’m absolutely amazed you didn’t run off. I would have enjoyed the chase.”

Kailigh eyed him up and down. “You’re dressed like a Domer.” A man who didn’t work for a living, the kind with inherited money who dabbled in ‘trade.’

Maddugh tugged at his finely woven vest. “It’s a disguise. No one could possibly take me seriously in this frippery.”

That was God’s truth. While he always dressed as befit his station in life, his regular style was decidedly understated, even severe. This outfit… the quality of the cloth, polished gold buttons, and shined shoes complemented his lean frame, but was nearly dandified with profusion of gold on brown brocade. He’d pulled his hair back and tied it with something so it wasn’t its usual wild mass. All he needed was a topcoat and a cane.

Kailigh snorted and set off again, her daughters at her side. Maddugh fell in at her side.

“So, what is the plan, Kai?” he asked. “You did have a plan?”

“Working on it,” Sere said.

The plan mostly consisted of nosing through town, finding the slug who’d shot her daughter, and inviting him for a little chat at high noon in the town square. At least in her mind. She’d likely stake him out and wait until dark, quietly shoot him in the head, and then hope to make it back to the castle in time for dinner. She hated cold food, though cold chicken was all right.

“Split up?” Sere asked.

“No,” Maddugh said.

“Good idea,” Kailigh said simultaneously, then glared at him. “Look, Your Royal Majesty, this is my show. I make the calls.”

His head tilted as he studied her like some particularly curious form of bug. With wings for him to snatch off. “Mistress, you’ve forgotten you owe me the fulfillment of our deal.” He smiled, the pleasant expression rising the hairs on the back of her neck. “I must protect my investment, after all.”

They spent a few hours scouting—skulking, rather—before Kailigh called a halt. She rounded up her daughters. “Look, go back to the castle, I’ll scout for a few more hours. Cin won’t like being by herself for long.”

They protested, but Maddugh intervened. “Your youngest sister is your first duty, and she should be properly attended by other women of her household,” he said, voice firm. “Obey your mother.”

They gaped at him, but Kailigh just grinned, smug. It felt nice to have someone on her side for a change. The three girls always argued with her. If they’d had a real father growing up, maybe they wouldn’t be so wild. Going around drinking, carousing, getting shot. They left, though, Serephone with a dark glare and Persia with a knowing little smirk. Kailigh ignored them both.

“This time of night, the traffickers and their ilk will be in one of the establishments that offer adult entertainment,” Kailigh told Maddugh.

He looked interested. “Adult entertainment? Would that be why you really wanted the girls gone?”

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” she replied, voice a little sour.

Maddugh reached out a hand, pushing her cheek with his knuckles. “I only have eyes for one lady. And am thoroughly enjoying her stubbornness.” He paused. “Mostly.”

What could she say to that? Not much, especially since she wasn’t accustomed to the flirting. She jerked and shrugged and led the way to the first strip joint.

It wasn’t officially licensed as a strip joint, but there was music, and half-clad women on tables who happened to be dancing to the music. It also wasn’t officially licensed as a whorehouse, but there were rooms, and there were appropriately unattired women in those rooms.

“My,” Maddugh said, glancing around. “What… character?”

Kai glanced at him. His expression was pleasantly bored, eyes sharp as he located and sized up every male in the room. He didn’t look at the women-and Kai watched to see where his gaze would fall.

“The girls are dangerous, too, you know,” she said, vaguely offended on behalf of the female gender that he would dismiss all the women as ‘safe.’

He glanced at her. “Yes. But they aren’t traffickers. Although that one—” he nodded to a woman on a far table, hips swinging to the beat of the music “—moves like an agent. Watch her. She’s probably here to spy.”

Kailigh controlled the urge to gape, and made a mental note. “Then why not arrest them?”

“Management,” he said, clinically. “There are too many traffickers, and they change tactics too often. It’s easier to manage them than to try to stamp them out.”

Kailigh stared at him. He shrugged. “When you one day rule, you’ll understand.”

She snorted. “I rule my house, and my garden, and my girls—and they are almost fully their own women, so not even them soon.”

He glanced at her, but said nothing, following her into the dark, slightly musty room. It was stuffed with bodies, likely a quarter of the adult male population of the mining camps. More than usual, which brought a frown to Kai’s face, recalling the conversation between Maddugh and Amnan. She’d have to spend more of her time in town, keeping an eye on things. She was still human, despite the evidence of Dwyrkin blood, and she could skulk, ear to the ground, without no one batting a lash. So, if there would be trouble, she could warn Maddugh ahead of time.

“I will talk to some of the girls,” she said, leaning close to his ear. “They trade in information sometimes as well as other things.”

His hand wrapped around her wrist, hard, forestalling her. He lowered his head so his lips pressed to her ear. “And what is the plan, Kai? What do you do when you find one of his men?”

“Find out when he’ll be back so we can have a trap waiting.”

“And then just let the man go?”

The skepticism in his voice irritated her. “Of course not. We’ll turn them over to the constable to hold until things are settled.”

Maddugh sighed. “How cute. The constable.” He released her wrist and patted her bottom. “Go play. I’ll have a drink and keep an eye on things.”

“Whatever.”

Chapter Fifteen

Maddugh allowed Kailigh to lead. It gave him the opportunity to observe how she handled herself, the way she moved and communicated with the townspeople. The balance between command and ease, the questions she asked and of whom. He had to ensure she would, in fact, make him a good queen. He wasn’t inclined to take a queen in name only—marriage didn’t work like that. A wife would be privy to his thoughts and actions, would have to be trusted, by dint of her constant proximity, with his secrets and matters of states. Granted the ‘state’ wasn’t what it had once been. But his first step in forcing his people to dip their toes back into the human world would be to take a woman as queen who was from it.

Maddugh sighed. Times had changed. They must also change, or be washed away. She was Dwyrkin enough not to activate his instinct to dine. It was why he stayed away from the mines—Amnan was less troubled by his belly when among the mortals. Maybe because he’d been raised here. But Maddugh? The urge to chomp still occasionally troubled him.

Kailigh led him to a darker section of the bar. “Stay here,” she said, voice short. “I go to talk to one of the girls—they won’t say anything if you’re with me.”

Her autocratic nature amused him—since he’d already decided to wed her. If she’d been anyone else, she would have found herself on the wrong end of his flame. He planned to temper her fire, thoroughly, as soon as she was done with this courting business.

Maddugh sat, ordered the bartender to bring him something strong, and inspected the glass with a critical eye when it was brought to him.

“We wash the dishes,” the man said, sour.

“I’m sure that you do,” he replied, eyeing the glass.

“You’re not a Domer, are ya?”

“No, indeed.” Maddugh smiled pleasantly. “I’m simply here to escort my lady.”

The bartender’s eyes followed his nod towards Kailigh. He snorted. “That harpy? She’d just as soon cut off your balls than lick em.”

“That may be, but you will be respectful.”

The man looked at him sideways, then sidled off. Good. Maddugh’s face was not instantly recognized in the human town—he came here rarely, and mostly in flight and at night. There was no point to disturb Kailigh’s research over what she’d consider a trifle.

“You’re with Kai?”

Maddugh glanced at the human who slid onto a stool next to him. An overly friendly smile and nails that were far too clean for the job Maddugh paid him to do.

“Yes,” Maddugh said. “I am.”

“That’s odd.” Gaston took a sip of his beer and angled himself towards Maddugh. “I’ve never seen you here before, and Kai isn’t the relationship type.”

He was beginning to tire of other men speculating on the characterizes of his woman. Maddugh drew a silver coin from his inner vest pocket and placed it on the counter.

“I don’t pay you to indulge in sordid speculation regarding my queen,” he said.

Gaston held up his hands. “Apologies. I’ve known her—and the girls—since she first came here, years ago.” He smiled. “We go all the way back. Some good times.”

Maddugh stared at Gaston, considered how the man would taste with a creamy garlic sauce. When he spoke again, his voice was very, very gentle. “You want something.”

Gaston’s smile faded. Maybe the man wasn’t as stupid as he seemed. “I was hoping you’d had time to reconsider the proposal. I spoke to Kailigh—”

Maddugh’s hand lashed out, grabbing the human by the cloth at his neck. “If I hear her name on your lips one more time, I will snack on your brains.”

The foreman’s face turned a sickly shade. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

Maddugh’s head snapped towards the bartender as the click of a rifle sounded. “Put that away before you hurt yourself.”

Distantly, he heard a familiar feminine voice snarl. Wonderful—now he was in trouble with his wife.

“Put that away, you shit for brains,” Gaston snapped at the bartender. “Do you know who this is?”

“Don’t care. Won’t be havin’ no excitement in my place tonight.”

Maddugh respected a man’s right to keep peace in his domicile… but didn’t he own the lease on the land this building was sitting on? He eyed the man, setting Gaston back onto his stool, then held out his hand.

“I am Maddugh. My apologies for my temper.”

Bartender’s eyes narrowed, flicked to Gaston, then back to Maddugh. “Huh. Well, we got rules here. So’s to keep the customers safe. Per terms of the lease.”

“I understand. I’ll behave.”

The bartender put the rifle away, wiped his hand on a cloth, and shook Maddugh’s hand. “‘preciate it.”

“Can I leave you alone for a—oh.”

Maddugh glanced at Kai, then took her hand, lifting it to his lips. “Excuse me, my darling. Just a bit of discussion between men gone awry. I haven’t had dinner yet and was feeling a bit peckish.”

Gaston made a gagging sound. The bartender snatched a plate of something that smelled like burned chicken covered in spicy sauce from a passing server and placed it in front of Maddugh.

“On the house,” the bartender said.

Kailigh glared at him, glared at Gaston, then snatched her hand back and stomped away. Maddugh sighed. If she had a tail, it would be knocking glasses off tables, left and right.

She would look magnificent with a tail.

Gaston eyed the plate in front of Maddugh “The steaks here are decent.”

Maddugh bared his teeth. “You wanted to discuss something with me.”

“Ah… yes. The proposal. To expand operations—”

“I already said no.” His dragon roused, focusing on the male who had suddenly become prey. “Do you understand that if you follow the plans you gave me, then you will risk a collapse of several of the main tunnels? I don’t care how well you shore them up.”

The humans pushed their workers too far into the mountains and had set off more than one cave in during the last fifty years. But if Maddugh didn’t lease them the rights to mine, they would do it illegally, costing him the revenue stream and the ability to exert some kind of safety and quality controls. So, humans crawling through his mountains were a necessary annoyance, liked fleas.

“Profits are declining. We won’t be able to support the town on the current production schedules.”

“Find a way,” Maddugh said. “The portion of the mountain I needed is big enough if you aren’t greedy. There are years left in the territory you have.”

He’d done a detailed analysis at the beginning to make sure he didn’t have to go through all the paperwork more than once every century. It had only been twenty-five years since the last expansion—they had another seventy-five before they should be coming to him bleating about needing more area.

Maybe it was time he found a new business venture. Nuaddan needed something to take his mind off his troubles. He’d have his eldest son come out of the forest and take an interest in living again.

“My business partners are willing to pay premium for the privilege, and assume the insurance costs that come with increased risk.” Gaston said, his voice even.

Maddugh eyed the way the man’s hand wrapped around his beer. Like he wanted to strangle it. “I don’t need more money. The mountain is stable—it will remain stable and the current contract has seventy-five years before it’s up for renegotiation.”

Gaston’s smile was tight. “There’s an increased demand from the cities. Their energy needs—”

Maddugh snorted. “They’re fools. They’ve allowed a petty human war to degrade them from clean energy back to coal. Stupid. And lazy, but I can’t decide which is worse.”

Gaston stood. “I can see I’m wasting your time. Have a good evening.”

Maddugh watched as the man made his way through the crowd, paused briefly to speak to Kailigh, and then left the establishment. He’d have to keep an eye on that one. The dissatisfied humans were always the most dangerous.

* * *

“Trouble incoming,” Melissa said.

Kailigh turned her head as Gaston approached. “Gaston.”

“Talk to him, Kai. This town will be nothing but ghosts in five years if he doesn’t expand production.”

Her brow arched. “I’ve never known you to be concerned about the ghosts in any pockets but your own.”

His expression darkened. “We’ll talk, Kailigh. Your flying worm will want to cooperate with our expansion plans.”

“Or else what?” she asked, but he’d already turned away.

“Rumors they’re trying to dig new tunnels,” Melissa said after he’d closed the front door behind him. Kai heard the crack of thunder outside and sighed, irritated. Great.

“New tunnels? The Lord doesn’t allow that but once a century.”

Everyone in the town had a general idea of the contract between the mining company and Lord Maddugh. Too many of their husbands, lovers, sons worked the digs. It was odd, in a way. Maddugh was the ultimate source of the economy around here—the side business had sprung up to support the workers. But he wasn’t technically their Lord.

“One of my regulars is a development scout from the city. They’re looking to expand. Something about… suburbs?” Melissa looked baffled for a minute. “What the hell is a suburb?”

The word sounded familiar. Kailigh frowned, making a mental note. But that wasn’t why she was here.

“Look, Mel, I appreciate about confidentiality, but Ruthus is a danger to all the women in town. What if he decides to make quota by trying to pass a professional off as fresh meat?”

Melissa’s expression closed down. “If it gets out I ratted about clients, I’d be dead in a week. These traffickers don’t play that shit, Kai. You know that.”

She sighed, frustrated. “Give me anything. Something.”

The woman hesitated. “Try Anga’s place. Tomorrow night. Their group has been coming in once a week regular, and that’s their favorite spot. Sometimes we get the overflow here.”

“Thanks, Mel. I’ll leave you a tip at the bar.” So no one would see Kai and Melissa exchange money and wonder why.

“Thanks,” Mel said, and slid away, her hips swaying as she worked the room again.

Kailigh made her way back to Maddugh. “Got a lead,” she said, coming close so no one would hear. “Leave the bartender an extra silver piece. I need to pay Mel for her info.”

He nodded, rising from his seat a moment later. “Time to go?”

Once they’d opened the front door though, Kailigh stopped short. Outside the awning along the walkway, rain fell so hard it bounced off the packed dirt roads, creating a muddy dredge.

She swore. Her boots would be hell to scrape clean, and she hadn’t brought an umbrella.

“We’ll get soaked,” she said, and started to step out when Maddugh grabbed her arm. She glanced at him, irritated.

“I’m not walking you home in this weather,” he said, voice barely discernible over the crack of lightning and pounding of the rain. “Let’s wait it out.”

“It will go all night!”

He shook his head, and pulled her back into the bar. The pound of music and conversation wasn’t nearly as loud as the weather. “They have rooms here? We can wait it out in one. Is the food safe?”

“One of the best cooks in town,” she replied, automatically. “But wait a minute—I’m not sitting around in a room with you all night. My girls—”

“Are fine,” he growled. “My sons won’t let anything happen to their future sisters.”

Kai’s jaw loosened. “Are you mad?”

He took her hand, pulling her through the crowd. “Quite probably. Where do we book?”

An attendant at a desk manned the staircase that led to paying rooms.

“Ignore the woman,” Maddugh said loftily. “She has been ill—and it’s storming outside.”

“Maddugh—”

“It’s raining. I haven’t had my dinner and I’m hungry. I don’t feel like a hunt. We will go upstairs, wait out the rain for the night, enjoy a hot meal, and if you wish to sleep, you may do so. I am Dwyrkin. I do not need to sleep.”

“Pot roast on special,” the attendant murmured. “And fresh bread. Might want to take him up on that offer.”

Kailigh sighed, aggravated and wanting to get back to her daughters, but the truth was she must be getting old. The thought of traipsing through the storm—rather than sitting in a dry room tucking into a hot meal—had little appeal.

She fixed him with a stare. “You will behave yourself.”

His expression was bland. “Of course, mistress.”

The attendant settled them into a plain, but serviceable room. Kailigh prowled it from end to end, inspecting for signs of bugs or rodents. She pulled the white bedding from the mattress and checked for tiny crawling things. She couldn’t abide insects.

Chapter Sixteen

Maddugh watched, arms folded, as he leaned on the door. “Does it meet with your approval?”

She glanced at him, at the open amusement on his face. “For a man who has a staff to clean up after him, you’re rather blasé about the accommodations.”

He crossed the room and took a seat in the only chair, stretching out his legs. “Ah, but I am not human, mistress. I am used to sleeping in the earth among the bugs and creeping crawling things.”

Kailigh stilled. For a moment, his eyes flared gold, the pupils narrowing to slits, then they were normal again.

“I see,” she said, and sat on the edge of the bed, marginally satisfied. She’d slept in worse places in her life than a brothel. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve seen inside the kitchen before, and the chef keeps her domain impeccable.”

“See? Nothing to worry about. Why don’t you come here?”

She glanced at him, wary. His lids covered his eyes and his fingers were laced on his stomach. He looked sleepy, lazy. She knew it was a lie.

“You just stay over there,” she said. “Dinner should be—ah, there we go.”

She rose at the knock on the door, and crossed the room to open it. A cheerful server stood with a small wheeled cart.

“Dinner, mistress.”

Kailigh stepped aside and the young woman entered, proceeding to lower a tabletop from the wall near Maddugh, unfolding its single leg and securing it to the floor. Kailigh blinked. Ingenious.

“There’s a second chair in the closet, mistress.”

She opened the indicated door and pulled out a folding chair and a moment later, the attendant left. Kailigh sat, and observed the dishes. A casserole dish with chunks of roast swimming in its own gravy, thick-cut root vegetables nestled in the sauce. A platter of steaming cornbread and side dish of butter. A dish of greens drizzled with vinaigrette and another plate with two generous slices of caramel butter cake. There was a pitcher of lemon water, and the wine Maddugh had ordered as well.

She gestured to the food, indicating he might serve himself first. Maddugh shook his head, waiting in silence as Kailigh helped herself. He chose his own bits and Kai turned her attention to her plate.

“What will be your next move, Kailigh?” the Lord asked.

She glanced at him. He hadn’t touched his food, but continued to watch her. “I have some information I’ll follow up on.” Thunder cracked outside and she grimaced. “Evidently not tonight. The establishment wouldn’t take kindly to me tracking mud on the floors.”

“What shall we do to pass the time, then?”

Kai didn’t like the relaxed tone of his voice, or the now fully lidded eyes, as if he were hiding his slitted pupils.

“I understand meditation is good for one’s soul.”

White teeth flashed, a little pointier than she recalled seeing before. “I’m sure. Tell me, why are you unmarried?”

Kai put her fork down, sipped on her wine. “My husband was a lazy lout and I had no desire to repeat the experience?”

His brow rose. “Why did you choose him then?”

“He was pretty.”

Maddugh’s eyes opened. “Is that all it takes to win your hand? A pretty face?”

Kai snorted. “I was twenty.”

“And since then? You raised children on your own under… trying circumstances. A husband would have been a help.”

“Maybe. Likely not. The pickings around here tend to be all of the same type.” And she had no desire to start over in a different settlement, or try her hand at applying for admittance to one of the cities. She didn’t have the temperament for that kind of lifestyle, anyway.

“So, here you are, a woman with Dwyrkin blood, unwed, and a proven child bearer.”

Kailigh frowned at him. “I don’t need any more children.”

She’d managed to raise the girls to adulthood, limbs intact. Why would she repeat the harrowing experience all over again? Of course, her mind whispered, this time would be different. What would it be like to raise a child in comfort, with a father to help, and no worries over food or lurking enemies? To actually take time and enjoy her child’s infancy and young years instead of constantly worrying?

She closed her eyes, listening as he spoke.

“There are benefits to you in our union. A raise in your living standards, companionship. Protection if at a certain point some fool thinks you vulnerable. Even a warrior can die by accident if surprised at the wrong moment.”

She knew that. If she were younger, she might resent him for pointing it out. “We all die, Maddugh.”

Meeting his eyes, Kailigh considered her options. Though not quite overbearing, he wasn’t a man who was used to being told no. He’d never really considered that she would tell him no—in anything. She owed him Cinvarra’s life, and had struck a bargain that gave him a kind of temporary ownership over their wombs. More than temporary, since any grandchildren of hers would be born his subjects.

“Do you know you never actually asked me to marry you? So, what is it you want from me? Sex, some amusement before you tell everyone it didn’t work out—it’s you, not me—and Kai is available after all?”

He didn’t move for a long, tense second, and then when he smiled… Kailigh stifled a flinch. His teeth were even sharper now.

“I don’t think you quite understand my purpose, mistress,” Maddugh said. “I don’t want a night from you.” He waited until she nodded, relaxing and prepared to go back to her meal, then spoke again. “I want forever.”

She couldn’t eat anymore, a kind of anxiety she hadn’t felt since she was a young woman in the pit of her stomach. “You don’t even know me.”

The push to challenge his decision drove her. She had to know he was trustworthy. Had to know this wasn’t a whim. He wanted her to bring a child into the world? She had to know that child would be protected.

He shrugged, and rose. “So? Even if I didn’t like you—and I do—you would still be valuable to me. And I would be a poor Lord if I allowed my men to take a treasure I found first.” Something flashed across his face, an emotion not quite human. “And we are both old enough to know that unions aren’t always for love, Kai.” Maddugh reached out a hand, curled it under her chin. “Desire is a good start. I am tired of your doubt.”

Kailigh knew what he silently asked, demanded. His hand tightened on her chin, a subtle pressure.

“Try me,” he said. “If I’m not to your satisfaction, Lady, I will walk away and let you choose a better man.”

He stared down at her, his expression carefully neutral. Kailigh knew better. His shoulders thrummed with tension, his fingers on her face absolutely still. A predator who understood the wrong move would scare his prey. But she was no prey.

Kailigh stood, smoothing her hands down her skirt. “A night, and if I want no more of you, you’ll walk away.”

Maddugh smiled, and reeled her in, an arm snaking around her waist. It was different this time. He wasn’t trying to woo her—he’d already won, been given permission.

“Is there anything I can’t do to you?” he asked, lowering his head so his lips hovered over hers.

Kailigh swallowed, the question telling. Her heart lurched, body tensing. It had been so long—she felt like a girl again. A damn shame, a grown woman like her, trembling.

“I’ll let you know, I guess.”

He laughed, then kissed her, lifting her into his arms at the same time to take her to the bed. She thought he would toss her down but instead, he lowered them both at the same time, cradling her as if she was precious. Then he stretched out on his elbow, continuing his kisses as his hand toyed with the buttons and clasps of her vest.

Kailigh’s leg moved, restless, when he’d unfastened the bottoms of her shirt, revealing a plain, serviceable corset covered in blue embroidery. She remained utilitarian on the outside, but she liked prettier things on the inside. Maddugh’s head lifted, and he stared at the cleavage pushed up from the tight lacing.

“Shirts on women should be a crime,” he said, a hand cupping her breast.

Kailigh snorted. It was such a boyish thing to say. Even a…. centuries?… old Lord of the dragon Dwyrkin thought just like any other man.

Maddugh unlaced the ribbons, pulling the garment open to allow her breasts to spill free. She experienced a moment of discomfort—she’d nursed all three of her daughters and though she was often mistaken for one of them, she was still a grown woman old enough to have grandchildren. Certain things weren’t as perky as they used to be.

He didn’t seem to notice. Maddugh’s head lowered and he flicked a hardening nub with his tongue, his hand cupping the other globe. She hissed, hips arching a bit, and he trailed kisses down her ribs, pausing over the skin reddened from the flexible boning of the corset.

“May I?” he asked, hands on the waistband of her pants.

She lifted and he made quick work of unbuttoning and pulling cloth down her legs, taking her underthings with it.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, fingers trailing over her stomach, tracing each mark of birth. “Three live births, all daughters.”

And he looked up at her, eyes smoldering and Kailigh knew a moment of panic. He looked like a man who wanted more than sex. Wanted…

“You can’t get me pregnant on purpose, can you? You don’t have magic that controls that?”

“Mistress, if we did… but if I get you with child, I won’t be sorry.” His hand spread over her stomach. “I’m tired of sons, anyway. They are defiant. I’d like a daughter.”

Kailigh snorted with laughter. “Ha! Girls are even worse.” She grabbed his hand as it cupped her breast. “Maddugh… I can’t bring a fatherless baby into the world. I won’t raise another child like that.”

Maddugh stilled, staring down at her. “Ah, sweet.” His head lowered, mouth brushing the edge of her lips. “You’ll learn to trust me, in time. And even if I went mad, and abandoned my woman and child, I have three adult sons who would take care of you both, and your daughters—after they took care of me.”

His teeth flashed, telling her what kind of ‘care’ his sons would show him. Kailigh relaxed, just a little. Objectively, she could trust in the honor of Amnan, even Hrutha. She didn’t believe they were the kind of men who would allow their blood to be abandoned.

Maddugh’s smiled deepened, and he moved down her body. Before she could demand what in the steamy hells he was doing, his mouth was on her. Again, as if the first time hadn’t simply been him trying to win her over.

Her legs splayed open all on their own, taking over when Kailigh might have protested. She didn’t feel in control, the more he toyed with her, tongue and mouth and fingers bringing her a pleasure she’d never known. A pleasure she’d heard other women, working women, even young girls barely out of childhood giggling and engaging in ribald humor over. She’d always wondered what the hell the big deal was. Hadn’t thought that after their picnic, he could repeat the experience.

Maddugh rose over her, staring down with deep eyes that had seen more turns of the sun than she and her children combined, watching with satisfaction as her body trembled in the aftermath.

“You look surprised as last time,” he said, a finger trailing between the valley of her breasts. “Don’t you know I enjoy the taste of you?”

“I thought that was just a one off—” she stopped. Scowled.

“Really?” His face was smug. “My value has just shot up then.” His brow arched as if to dare her to contradict him. “I’ll make this night memorable, mistress, to ensure you don’t walk away.”

“You can’t control me with sex, Maddugh.”

“No? Hmm… how about we make a deal, you and I? A rule to start off our marriage.”

She struggled with the urge not to cross her arms. It would be ridiculous, considering she was naked, on her back, legs wide open for him.

“Outside of the bedroom,” he continued, “I will defer to you, as any man should a beautiful, intelligent woman. But inside the bedroom…”

She licked her lips, throat just a bit dry from the growl in his voice. “Inside the bedroom?”

“In here, I am your only master.”

He stripped his clothing, movements slow and deliberate, until he revealed a body honed from centuries of training. Broad shoulders and powerful thighs, hair a silken cover over golden skin. His cock jutted towards her, huge and swollen with desire, and if she’d been a virgin she would have worried.

It had still been a very, very long time.

He covered her body, draping her legs over his shoulders for the sharpest angle, and nudged her entrance.

“Are we agreed?” he asked.

As if she wouldn’t say anything at this point just to get him to move. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

Maddugh laughed, a purring sound of masculine amusement. “Naughty girl. So impatient.”

He sank inside, balls slapping against her skin as he fit himself all the way into her body. Kailigh gasped, biting her bottom lip, the fullness both unexpected and delicious. He moved, hips grinding when he found the spot inside that brought tiny cries to her lips, setting a relentless pace, chasing both his satisfaction and her own.

“That’s it,” he crooned. “Scream for me, Kailigh. You make me a man.”

Her orgasm crested, her body releasing slick juices to ease his way as he increased his pace, pounding in and out until moments later, he came, hot seed inside her body. He stayed inside her, grinding all the way up to her womb as if he didn’t want a single drop to leave her body.

As if he wanted to conceive a child that very night.

Chapter Seventeen

Kailigh turned onto her side, wincing at the subtle ache in the small of her back, and stretched. She pulled the covers back over her head, continued to pretend it wasn’t morning for another five minutes, then sighed and threw off her cocoon, swinging her legs to the floor.

Glancing over, she froze. Two daughters slept in armchairs near the fireplace and Maddugh… he stood several feet away, an island in the middle of the room, arms crossed. Staring.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“Why are the three of you in my room?” She stood, a little surprised at how wobbly her legs felt, and shrugged it off. Last night had been… she blushed, and turned her mind away from those thoughts. They’d set a fast pace on the trek back to the castle once the rain let up…

Kailigh frowned. Why was she in bed? They’d left this morning, and… and…

“You’ve been asleep three days,” he said.

It was her turn to stare. The words made no sense. The girls stirred, Serephone’s eyes popping open with abrupt wakefulness. She surged to her feet.

“Mother!”

She knew her daughters, especially the nuances in their voice tones. “What’s going on?”

“I believe,” Maddugh said, “that your Dwyrkin nature has been triggered. To some extent.”

What? “You really think I’m not human, don’t you?”

“I know you aren’t all human.” His look was measured. “It was only ever a matter of how much of our blood is in your veins, and which particular strain. This… may make things more interesting.”

Kailigh glanced at her daughters. “Cin?”

“Asleep,” Persia said. “We made her stay in her room. She’s still tired. But better.”

Kai nodded. “All right. Everyone, get out. I need to bathe and dress and then we will talk. Girls—we also need to discuss what you will be spending your time doing forthwith. Lounging around the castle, idle, isn’t an option.”

The girls nodded and left. Maddugh hadn’t budged. “We need to talk, Kailigh.”

She crossed the room towards the wardrobe, opened it and drew out her selection for the day. Wide-legged trousers designed to look like skirts, in serviceable navy, a plain white blouse and brown vest with embroidery in festive red. She made a face when encountering a corset, and considered forgoing it for the day.

“We’ll talk after I’ve dressed,” she said, turning. Her stomach rumbled. “And eaten.”

He nodded. “I’ll order breakfast.”

* * *

Kailigh stared in the mirror, uneasy. She couldn’t quite decide if she was imagining things, or if she was just well rested after three days of sleep… or if the light in the castle was simply better than what she was used to.

Her fingers touched her face again. Subtle differences, so subtle she could just be reacting to nothing. But her skin felt smoother. And when she squinted, she didn’t see the faint beginnings of hairline wrinkles on her forehead. The signs of age she’d first noticed in her mid-thirties. She still was mistaken as Persia and Serephone’s sister—but an older sister.

Now… she looked barely a decade older.

Kailigh left the room, making her way to the dining hall. She’d dismissed the staff assigned to her the first day, preferring to find her way than have a Dwyrkin hovering over her. And the place was built along straight lines; it wasn’t difficult to point oneself in the right direction, and then just keep following the increasing scent of food.

Entering the breakfast room with its more informal round table and sideboard, she spotted Maddugh right away, sitting in a chair with, of all things, a newspaper.

She stared. They had newspapers in town. Runners dropped the periodicals off once a month, but paper was so precious these days. Women liked to keep up with the fashions and high society in the cities, and the men liked to pour over a month’s worth of scores for their favorite sports teams. The cities had luxuries like sports teams, and fashion blogs. Out here… the world was about survival and conditions existed that were more nineteenth century than twenty-third century.

Picking up a plate, she helped herself to eggs and sausages. Maddugh set aside the paper and rose, approaching the sideboard to select a glass and fill it with fruit juice. A luxury, especially orange juice. He set it next to her plate as she took a seat.

“I can see the questions on your face,” he said after she’d eaten in silence for several minutes.

She glanced at him, then shrugged. “You said my Dwyrkin blood is awakening. Because we had sex?”

His mouth quirked. “You aren’t concerned about your reputation? You speak so freely.”

Kailigh frowned, annoyed. “I’m a grown-ass woman, a divorcee with three children. I don’t give a flying fu—”

Maddugh winced. “I see. Quite a practical attitude, though among my people you would be considered young. A debutante.”

He chose that word just to irritate her. Kailigh ignored it. “So, answer the questions you think I have.”

“Woman, I can’t read your mind.”

She snorted. “Where is your kitchen garden?”

He blinked, and took a minute to respond. “Ah… I can take you there. What do you want with the gardens?”

“I need some me time. We can talk later.”

* * *

She wrapped her eggs and meat in bread and Maddugh led her out of the castle and around the side. His home wasn’t overly large, three stories and maybe the width of a half block. She assumed the size was because he had live-in staff; otherwise, it would be the height of ridiculousness. Even if he was the richest man living outside of a city.

The size of the kitchen garden surprised her. It was smaller than it should be to feed the tally of people she estimated lived here. And the plants were… sad.

Kailigh picked her way through rows of greens, finding a spot to kneel for a closer examination.

“Who’s in charge of maintaining this?” she asked.

“The kitchen manager, I believe.”

His voice came from several feet away, so he hadn’t followed her on her survey.

She ran her finger through the soil, reaching out with senses deeper than mere touch. There was a reason her produce sold for a premium, and they had to guard it with guns. Leaving the household gardens unattended grated on her. She’d have to return soon and finish the task of gathering what she could to make preserves for sale. Maybe she could transplant some of the plants here. They could use it.

Kailigh released a small trickle of her power, knowing from experience that if she wasn’t careful, land as poorly tended as this would suck her dry.

“Your people aren’t gardeners, are they?” she asked, more rhetorical than anything, while she worked.

Her heart rate and breathing sped up as if she was jogging, and she gritted her teeth. The land wanted to soak in her energy, greedily, and she struggled not to allow that. Before her eyes, the sad rows of greens subtly unfurled, as if infused with moisture and nutrients.

Footsteps behind her. “Kailigh, what are you doing?”

Maddugh’s voice was the sharpest she’d ever heard it, the lazy amused arrogance gone. A puff of hot air on the back of her neck.

“Slow your roll,” she muttered. “Helping, not hurting.”

She had to close off the tap now. Kailigh wrenched her hands out of the soil, knees aching, throat dry.

“Kailigh.”

“I’m fine,” she said, registering strong arms that wrapped around her middle, hauling her to her feet.

“I can taste the magic in the air, your hair is crackling with it.”

She didn’t understand the tight anger in his tone. Kailigh turned. “Are you upset I fixed your vegetables?” She had no energy to mask the annoyance in her own tone.

His eyes clashed with hers. “You aren’t trained.”

Kailigh laughed. “I’m trained. Feeding three hungry girls is training enough.” She yanked out of his arms. Or tried.

“You didn’t tell me you could do this.”

Ah. “That’s the real bugger, isn’t it? Well, you didn’t ask.”

His eyes closed. He stood that way for several minutes. Birds chirped around them, a gentle breeze caressing her cheek. She became hyper aware of the inhuman man holding her in his inescapable grip. Kailigh shifted.

His eyes snapped open. “You’d better not be armed.”

“Why are you angry, Maddugh?”

“All these years, you’ve been under my nose.” His voice softened to a gentle croon. “All these years. A woman with blood enough to make powered daughters—three—and possessing one of the crafts that left us when we were trapped here. I would make you my queen for that alone.”

She stiffened, hiding her internal shakiness. “Grow a man some vegetables, and he gets all emotional. Let me go, Maddugh.”

He smiled, his half crooked, half amused quirk of the lips. “It’s far too late for that, Lady. Will you wed, Kailigh? There is no other woman worthier than you.”

“Because I can breed and grow produce.”

“What’s more important to a race than its children, and its source of nutrition? Would you think more of me if I said we were to wed because you are beautiful?”

She scowled. She was no young girl. Let Cinvarra, Persia and Sere—well… Cinvarra and Persia—dream of love and courting. Her time for that was over.

Involuntarily, her hand rose, touched her own cheek. A cheek even smoother than a few days before. Energy flowed through her body, with vigor. Touched a womb not yet through the stage, marking her as past her prime of womanhood.

“What’s more valuable? Children, or growing food?”

His expression shifted, a canny calculating look sliding through his eyes. “Why?”

“Stop stalling.”

The Lord was silent for a moment. “The food. A woman will have children eventually—they all do.”

She didn’t bother to disabuse him of that notion.

“And my men are the best of them all, so I’ve no doubt eventually our daughters will choose from among them.”

She also ignored the ‘our daughters.’ “So, would you renegotiate our debt if I had additional information that would benefit you?”

He growled. Kailigh jumped, just a bit, cursing herself for even that small sign of weakness.

“Kailigh, don’t play games with me.” His eyes narrowed to slits, flashing golden.

“Will you renegotiate if I have additional information you would want to know?”

“What information?”

“Don’t you snap at me. And I’m not showing my cards until you agree to renegotiate.”

He stared down at her. “I could make you tell me, you know.”

She snorted. Neither his mild tone, nor his words, frightened her. That man wouldn’t lay a finger on her.

Maddugh released her, taking a step back, eyes narrowed. “You tell me what you are hiding, and wed me and have a child, and I will release our daughters from the bargain.” He smiled, pleasantly.

Kailigh folded her arms, considering. He likely assumed her daughters would wed among his men anyway, especially with an increase in rank and wealth should they become his stepchildren.

“You’ll dower them. Funding for a homestead or business venture. And they may marry or not—as they choose.”

“Done. Now tell me.”

Kailigh smiled. “I am not the only woman in my family who can make gardens grow.”

She hadn’t gone out of her way to keep it a secret—they’d just never told anyone. Both her and the girls knew the value of keeping one’s mouth shut, and after years of silence, their magic-enhanced green thumbs had become so second nature there was no reason to mention any more than to point out the color of their hair.

“That’s why you didn’t fight me when I told you that you were Dwyrkin,” Maddugh said.

She did appreciate that he kept his voice down—even though she could hear the grinding of his teeth. Interesting. Increased hearing, a skill that would come in handy, yes it would.

“What’s to fight?” she asked, also not mentioning Sere’s abilities. One card at a time. “Don’t change my life much, anyhow.” She paused, realizing that statement wasn’t exactly true.

He stared at her. “So, when is our wedding, my darling?”

“I can wash my best dinner dress out tomorrow.”

Kailigh kept her face straight as his expression iced over with magnificent affront. “I beg your pardon, mistress, but I’m almost certain your best dinner dress will not do.”

Maddugh turned on his heel and strode out of the garden. If he’d been a cat, he’d have been hissing, fur on end. Kailigh waited until he was gone then burst out in laughter.

“I hear you!” he shouted, his voice reaching her on the wind.

Very handy, evidently.

Chapter Eighteen

Maddugh threw another party.

“A betrothal luncheon,” he’d informed her. “Just the household, a few friends, and local business people over for lunch.”

Kailigh arrived in the hall, exasperated but amused. She’d dressed, which was tacit approval. The corset she wore was one she’d bought years ago from a traveling merchant. Deep red leather with copper studs, matching cuffs around her wrists. She’d put on her best skirt made of a swath of chocolate satin, gathered here and there to create flounces. It might not be quite up to a rich man’s standards, but her waist was nipped in and her cleavage plentiful—and Kai was certain that was all that really mattered.

Maddugh’s blond son nudged him and his head turned, a grin on his face before he froze. Kailigh’s head tilted as she watched him stride towards her, grin gone.

“Are you mad?” he exclaimed. “I want no bloodshed tonight over you.”

Kailigh laughed. “You’re a sweet boy.”

Maddugh scowled. “Woman, I’m centuries older than you.”

She patted his cheek. “I’m hungry. Feed me, Seymour.”

“What?”

Kailigh shrugged. “Old saying. Don’t know where from.”

He sighed, muttering something about keeping her close and side eyed her breasts. She just arched a brow, smirking. The side tables were packed full of food, and he’d arranged for a small bar. The bartender, jaunty with his white sleeves rolled up and a brightly colored vest and shiny top hat, asked her what she’d be having.

“Whiskey, on the rocks,” she said.

Maddugh leaned towards her, lips brushing against her ear. “Have two, my dear. So I may take advantage of you tonight.”

She snorted. “I can drink any man or dragon under a table, so you’d best get that thought out of your head.” She accepted her glass, bringing it to her lips and tilting the fiery drink down her throat. Smooth, rich. Ah... the good stuff. “I might be up for a romp, however.” Her body moistened in response to the thoughts running through her head. Maddugh, muscles slick, eyes on fire, above her. The thick length of him ready to make her scream.

“Stone and Steam,” she said, involuntarily.

“What are you thinking, Kailigh?” he asked, voice a deep purr. “You know I can sense—”

“Oh, be quiet.” She blushed a bit, and then slid her arm through his, leading him to the middle of the ballroom where dancing had begun.

Maddugh whirled her around the floor with as much enthusiasm as skill and it took all her concentration to glide along with him, and not simply be a rag doll in his arms. She heard a familiar shriek of laughter and glanced around until she spotted Cinvarra, standing on the edges of the dance with a grin on her face. Her cheeks were still thinner than normal, but there was color under her skin. She looked lovely in the rose-colored gown she wore.

“Did you buy the girls’ dresses?” she asked. She didn’t recognize Cinvarra’s dress.

“I had to bribe them for permission to marry their mother,” Maddugh replied, then paused, thoughtful. “Though Serephone wanted knives. I believe she spent the day hounding the blacksmith.”

Kailigh winced, and then laughed.

Eventually, she left his side, seeking her daughters to discuss their day, and update herself on the progress of their courtships.

“You know the deal I struck with the dragon Lord?” she asked, having drawn the three into a semi-private corner.

“He told us,” Persia said. “You didn’t have to, Ma.”

Kailigh shrugged. “It is no hardship, and I am better prepared for the trials of marriage than you three. Now, you may take your time.”

“You told him I can grow things,” Cinvarra said, her voice soft.

Kai glanced at her youngest child. “No, I didn’t say which daughter. He must have guessed.”

“He said we would talk about a position in his government. And that I need not ever wed unless that is what I chose.”

Kai held her breath. “What do you want to do?”

“A job is a good thing, especially if it’s my own stepfather.” Cinvarra grinned. “I bet I’ll get paid well.”

“Fortune hunters,” Serephone muttered.

“There’s that,” Kai acknowledged. “But we’ll take our time, and be choosy. And remember—you do not have to wed. So be very choosy.”

* * *

She danced a few more times, filled her plate once, and returned to the bar a second time. She was grown, and could indulge if she wanted to. The evening was well underway when Serephone appeared at her shoulder. Kai had found herself a chair in a quiet corner to sit and let her head settle for a moment while she watched Maddugh mercilessly tease his eldest sons who, apparently, didn’t care to dance. Hrutha flirted with every lady present, and a few of the men.

“Mother.”

Kai glanced up at Serephone and frowned, noticing the tension in her daughter’s shoulders right way. She rose. “What’s wrong?”

“An airbus was spotted coming into town. If we want to nab that mechanical-armed bandit, we have to move now.”

The pleasant lethargy of food and exercise and strong alcohol evaporated. “Find Persia.” They wove through the crowd, looking for the other twin. “Who is your informant?”

“I heard conversation—there are humans among the guests tonight.”

She’d seen them, and wondered if they’d crashed the party or if they were favored friends or associates of Maddugh.

“Will you tell him?” Serephone asked.

Kailigh considered, spotting Persia at the buffet table. “No.”

He would be angry, but he would just have to deal with it. She was a grown woman and mistress of her own actions—he might be her husband soon, but she wasn’t his subject.

Kailigh was torn whether to take Persia or leave her here to watch over Cinvarra. In the end, she reasoned that if she couldn’t leave her girl in the care of her future husband and his people, then she had no business marrying him.

The three of them slipped out of the hall one by one, Kailigh not wanting to chance Maddugh seeing them go all at once, and becoming suspicious. She hurried to her room and did little more than tear off the skirt to don sturdy brown trousers and boots, throwing a jacket over the corset and checking her flintlock, the shaped handle fitting with a sure grip in her palm. She holstered it, choosing the plain black over her more decorative studded brown. Some days she wanted her weapons to be visible—other days she wanted to sneak up on a varmint.

They left shortly after, Kailigh scanning her daughters as they strode out of the castle to ensure they were also properly outfitted. Persia’s not so subtle tendency towards drama manifested itself at the more inappropriate times. She needn’t have worried about Serephone—the eldest twin was all in black, a silent shadow, her chosen weapon, a long rapier and matching dagger strapped at her thigh.

“You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight,” Kailigh said.

Serephone’s hand brushed the small of her back and Kai nodded, satisfied. They jogged, since saddling up horses would have called attention to their travel.

“Avoid the guard post,” she said.

Sneaking wasn’t technically her way—thus she'd always chosen to simply confront the man, also taking a perverse pleasure in the verbal scuffle, but tonight there was no time for such petty amusements. As soon as they'd cleared hearing range, the three broke into a fast lope, swift and sure. They made good time to town. Persia pointed up as they broke through the forest line. An airbus hovered over the town square, its docking ladder descended to allow passengers and small cargo to ascend and descend. Like stairs to heaven or hell.

“We’re not going in guns blazing,” she warned. “We need to know how many guards he has with him, and what they’re armed with.” If they were lucky, the enemy wasn’t armed with more than hand blades and standard flintlocks. If they had the pneumatic rifles with double chambers, she and the girls were screwed. They couldn’t compete with that kind of advanced firepower. Recalling the last run in with Ruthus, Kai figured she’d better plan for screwed.

"Dead or maimed?" Persia asked, voice quiet.

"Dead," she replied, grim. "He already has one mechanical arm. And he won't stop trying to catch your sister. It’s more than just-"

"He's obsessed," Persia said.

Serephone just nodded, expression grim. It was the reality that no matter how well armed they were, no matter how vigilant, eventually everyone slipped up. She should have killed him a long time ago, but had been worried about bringing a wasp nest down around their heads. But Cinvarra had been shot, and now they had the backup of the Dwyrkin Lord who employed over two thirds of the local population.

A wasp nest? Her dragon would just burn it down. He'd be pissed when he found out, though.

She recognized many of the vendors from the Dwyrkin faire the other day in addition to the regulars. Her own spot in the fray stood empty, the booth she’d normally have laden with fresh produce, canned goods and the occasional set of baked goods. She wasn’t the best baker though—she usually gave her bread away for free after the purchase of a much tastier jam.

Kailigh noticed the looks she and the girls received, and recognized the sudden quiet packing of several of the booths.

“I warned them that next time they saw us it would be a gunfight,” Persia said quietly. “The ones who stay are armed.”

Kailigh made a mental note of who stayed, and who quietly packed up shop. “Hatcher?”

“He doesn’t know. Best that way, right? Plausible deniability.”

They took up positions near their empty stand, Persia trotting around to the mothers in the crowd and hustling them away. Occasionally, flashing a weapon if an owner needed extra convincing. But Kai’s was well known enough around town, and a look at her hard face was all the convincing some people needed. Plus, the sudden flashing of multiple weapons from the vendors who’d stayed.

The crowd remained quiet but tense as Ruthus emerged down the plank. Men walked in front and behind him, but it was clear he thought it business as usual. Kailigh allowed him that delusion until he reached the ground, then stepped from the cover of her stand.

“Ruthus Adjrius,” she yelled, “this is a citizen’s arrest.”

And then all hellfire broke loose.

His men reacted immediately, Ruthus pulling a pistol with his real arm. Kailigh didn’t wait, sighting her flintlock and opening fire. The courtyard was clear of bystanders—anyone who remained was committed to the fight. And he wasn’t going to turn himself in easy.

They kept the cover of the booth, even when more of Ruthus’ men came running down the street. Vendors turned, taking care of the attack on their flanks while Kailigh emerged from her shelter.

Ruthus grimaced. “You’ll regret this stupidity, mistress,” he shouted. “Who do you think is backing me?”

That was a question for the constable—and for Maddugh. The sides were evenly matched—until townspeople began arriving, their small handguns and sawed off shotguns grabbing Ruthus’ attention. His men were well armed, but suddenly outnumbered. Kailigh grinned, jaw locked, and increased her fire, pausing only to reload ammo. The whole thing was barely a handful of minutes, though it felt like a week of gunfire. As more townspeople arrived, Kailigh knew that they had a shot of capturing him—dead or alive.

"He's retreating!” Persia yelled.

The one-armed man was scrambling up the airbus ladder, counting on his men to keep the women occupied. Kailigh gritted her teeth but was hard pressed to do anything but continue to return fire.

Serephone glanced in the direction of Persia's stare and dropped to one knee. Moving swiftly, she pulled a narrow metal tube from inside her vest, put it to her lips, and blew.

Kailigh jerked, a shot firing wild. The tube let out a high-pitched shriek and a rapid series of tiny, shiny objects flew in a stream. The silver things caught the edges of his sleeves, at first appearing as if Sere had missed. But they expanded, unfolding into a gaggle of eerie silver spiders and began crawling all over him. He screamed, and she could see rents in the fabric of his coat and thin streams of blood.

He jerked, losing his grip as he frantically swiped at the mechanical spiders, and fell backward. It wasn’t a long drop, but it was enough that he made a thud, head cracking against the packed dirt of the circle.

A constable's whistle blew. Their enemies continued to fire, but slowly backed up, grim and professional.

Kailigh cursed and ran forward from her protected crouch, swerving to avoid bullets and the deadly currents of burning steam. She stumbled as the tiniest trickle of heat seared her upper left arm.

And in the distance, a dragon roared.

Chapter Nineteen

As the fighting continued, Kai didn’t have time to think about Maddugh, or about the second dragon that swooped out of the sky. She prayed they didn’t set the entire town on fire as they joined the fight, keeping to their Dwyrkin forms. Several of the vendors who’d stayed took advantage of the extra cover to either slink away—no hard feelings—or double down, faces grim. If they’d tapped the dragon community years ago, they probably could have rid themselves of Ruthus already.

The tide of the skirmish changed after that. Even the enemies steam powered rifles were no match for two fire breathing dragons and the combined firepower of the people remaining in the square. A whistle sounded again and the constable arrived, Ruthus’ men surrounded, recognizing that they’d likely fare better in a human jail than in the tender mercies of creatures who’d admitted to eating humans as delicacies in the past.

Maddugh shifted, gloriously naked—and gloriously indifferent. He strode towards Kai, who’d taken a seat on a bench, exhausted, arm in agony. Burns were the worst, though she was lucky it had only grazed her. When she glanced up, her betrothed was crouching in front of her, pupils cold, reptilian slits.

“This is the last time you will pull a stunt like this, mistress.” There was no exasperated amusement in his voice, no lurking warmth under irritation in his eyes. Only a terrible, chilly anger, and Kai realized she’d crossed a line with him. Sneaking out again to fight a battle that had put her life in danger—without telling him. But she wasn’t going to apologize. Because in the end? She’d never promised not to, in the first place.

“You know what you can do, Maddugh,” she replied, short from the pain. Her mouth thinned, jaw clenched because damn, she didn’t want to cry, and burns really, really, were the worst kinds of injuries.

And then a man approached at a dead run, brave of him, since he was coming up fast on the back of a dragon already heightened from battle and in a foul mood. Maddugh’s son noticed and leaped, powered by his wings, landing with a thud, teeth snapping.

“I bring news for the Lord!” the human shouted, hands up, skidding to a stop. “There’s an attack at the castle.”

Amnan shimmered, shifting. “Father, this is one of my informants in the mine.”

The man bent over, catching his breath. “Came as soon as I saw them headed out—had to be careful I think Gaston knows I’m not on his side. Going to storm the castle, take women hostages.”

“The women who aren’t currently in residence?” Maddugh asked, rising, voice dry. “Interesting timing, my son.”

Amnan glanced at Kailigh and shrugged. “If I had know of other items on today’s itinerary…”

“Kai, climb on my back. Amnan, take the girls.”

“Now wait just one minute-“

Maddugh snarled. Kai returned his snarl with interest, surging to her feet. Their chests bumped, Maddugh’s teeth snapping a mere inch from her nose. She didn’t flinch, the heat of her own temper rising, a strange itching along her spine as if her anger wanted to take a shape of its own.

“You want us to ride bareback? You can ask nicely.”

His eyes narrowed. “We will have words, Lady.”

They would. Yes, they would.

* * *

The flight was short, and exhilarating. A yearning burst to life inside her breastbone, the fierce freedom of flight. She crouched low over his back, thighs clamped tight. The scales weren’t slippery despite their glossy sheen, but rather were textured, and the slight curvature conformed to her body to present a natural seat. Though she would have preferred a harness of some kind.

They saw the mob from the sky, a cluster of filthy men with lamps and rifles, some with pick axes. Maddugh’s wings folded tight to his body and he dove. Kai felt the swell of his chest beneath her, and he let loose his flame over the heads of the men before climbing back into the air again. Shouts and screams of pain assailed her ears and the pop of weapons firing. She gnashed her teeth. She didn’t have a Dwyrkin’s hide—if one of the bullets met its mark, she or her daughters could be shot out of the sky.

Evidently, this occurred to the dragons. As one, they wheeled away and headed for the forest, landing far enough away from the castle that it would take time for the humans to follow.

Kailigh tumbled off Maddugh’s back, moving away as he shifted. The girls joined her, Persia’s face a peculiar shade. Serephone’s eyes gleamed, almost with the fire of a Dwyrkin.

“Again,” her eldest said. And strode towards Amnan once he was in human form. “Again!”

“You’re insane, Serephone,” Persia said, sidling away. “I hope it isn't genetic.”

“Probably is,” Kai muttered.

Amnan grabbed Serephone by the arms, expression wary. “Calm down, sister.”

Serephone recoiled. “I am not your sister.”

Maddugh glanced at the two before focusing on Kailigh. “I don’t suppose I can persuade you women to stay put?”

She sniffed. “I don’t suppose you can.”

He snorted a puff of smoke. “Women. Fine, stay at our backs. And try not to kill anyone—they still need to make quota in the morning, rebellion or not.”

A bit nonplussed by his ruthless practicality, Kailigh followed on Maddugh’s heels. They disappeared for a few moments to retrieve yet another stash of clothing, this time their customary black suits and shoes. And, surprisingly, firearms.

“The guard was ordered to contain but not engage until we arrived,” Amnan said. “I assumed you would want to minimize casualties.”

Maddugh nodded once, and gestured. They ran, Maddugh eyeing the women until he was certain they could keep up, and then increased the pace. Kailigh realized what it meant to be truly Dwyrkin.

Instead of diving into the crowd, they circled around to the side of the castle. Most of the humans were at the front entrance, contained by a string of Dwyrkin in human form, defending but not attacking.

“Cin,” Kailigh said and they made their way to the side entrance, taking out the occasional human who’d separated from the crowd. When they reached the door under Cinvarra’s balcony, a tall figure in a pale dress with long golden hair stepped out, leaning over the railing. Kailigh stared, blinking.

“Hrutha?”

He waved a hand. “Yoo hoo,” he said in a high-pitched voice, then laughed, the sound deep and wickedly amused. “They wanted a pretty hostage, so I volunteered. Do you think they’ll accept my terms of surrender?” He batted his lashes. She heard Cinvarra’s exclamation of disgust and a second later Kai’s youngest daughter appeared, shoving Hrutha aside.

“It’s about time, Ma. How could you leave me alone with this Mad Hatter? He’s certifiable.”

Amnan snorted, pushing past Kai to enter and take the stairs two at a time. She followed on his heels, meeting the pair halfway up the stairs.

“They haven’t breached the interior,” Hrutha said, eyes glittering. “A little sloppy, Amnan. You could have armed them better, provided us with some real sport. It just isn’t even odds this way. Some of them have axes. Axes.” He rolled his eyes. “Unbelievable.”

Amnan shrugged. “Did what I could.”

They strode through the castle to the front doors, the din on the other side increasing as they came closer.

“All right, let’s get this finished,” Maddugh said, crisp. “Get the leaders rounded up and brought to me and throw the men in the dun… basement. And make sure Gaston doesn’t get away.”

He eyed her sideways. Well, now she knew they had a dungeon.

Maddugh threw open the front doors, Amnan and Kailigh hard on Maddugh’s heels. The girls came as well, Kai not bothering to argue with them to stay back. At the sight of their Lord, the line of Dwyrkin guards broke, stepped back, and one by one they all began to shift. Hrutha burst out of his dress with a maniacal laugh, the bronze dragon taking his place with breathtaking scales of palest gold descending to a rich mahogany at his belly.

Kailigh watched, brow furrowed, as the humans were swiftly defeated, their weapons snatched from hands with claws and muzzles, a few streams of warning fire enough to cause the others to drop to the ground, hands on the back of their heads.

“I don’t understand,” Kailigh said. Amnan stood next to her, calm, as Maddugh watched a few feet away, almost bored from his crossed arms. “What made them think even a hundred men with rifles were a match against a town of dragons?”

Amnan scratched his chin. “I may have convinced them that the Dwyrkin lost their ability to shift, all save the Lord and his sons.”

“But… we see dragons in the sky all the time.”

Amnan shrugged. “Wizard’s First Rule.”

Persia started, head jerking around. “How do you know about that?”

Kailigh frowned. “What? What’s Wizard’s First Rule?”

“Ma. How can you not know Wizard’s First Rule?”

“People are stupid,” Serephone muttered.

* * *

Maddugh was closeted several hours with the leaders of the rebellion, getting to the bottom of the discontent and hammering out terms. Kailigh slipped in at one point to listen to some of it—because she didn’t want to be left out of the loop of what was going on in her own town, and slipped back out after things got boring to the point her mind began wondering about whether the plants had been watered.

“Gaston disappeared,” Amnan told her as she left the meeting room. “Be vigilant.”

Of course, she was. It was several days before Maddugh would let her out of the castle, several rusty days until she managed to corner him in his office.

“How long are you going to be in this mood you’re in?” she asked.

He set down the sheaf of papers in his hand. “Mood?” His voice was frosty.

“Yes. Mood.”

His eyes narrowed then he smiled, sitting back in his chair, fingers steepled. Kailigh eyed him warily.

“I had a bed brought in here,” Maddugh said. “That technically makes this study my bedroom.”

Oh. Hell. “Well.” She casually backed up a step. “I can see you’re not ready to talk. So I’ll just-“

She’d forgotten how fast a dragon in human form could move. He reached her before she’d taken three steps towards the door, snatching her up into his arms.

“Remember our agreement?” he asked.

Kailigh swore. Of course she did. It was why she’d been trying to back out of the room. He strode towards a corner of the office where a screen was placed, and pushed it aside. She hadn’t noticed when entering his office, but in the opposite corner of the window, and in the dark there was, indeed, a bed hiding behind the screen.

“Outside of the bedroom,” he said, “I will defer to you. Inside-“ Maddugh dropped her on the mattress. “I am your only Master.”

Kai bit her lip. “I don’t think we should have sex again before we’re wed.”

His hand snaked inside his vest, withdrew a tiny object. Grabbing her hand, he slid a ring on her finger. “I pronounce us man and wife.”

“What!” Kailigh stared at the ring. Gold, with a gigantic ruby surrounded by tiny winking diamonds. “You can’t do that.”

“I am the law here.”

“I didn’t say I do.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had to.” He lowered his head, nipped at her lips. “Wife.”

A vague, disgruntled sense of dissatisfaction turned her lips down at the corners. “But-“

“We’ll have a wedding,” he said. “In a few days. But we’re still married because I said so.”

It was absolutely ridiculous. “I don’t know of any civilized society where you don’t have to have a document and witnesses and some kind of legal court proceeding in order to get married.”

“Never said dragons were civilized. Stop protesting. Just start planning your dress.”

Epilogue

Kailigh escaped the rowdy reception for a few minutes of quiet—and to cool her head. Serephone’s idea to travel to the Seattle Dome and root out the patron financing Ruthus was just the kind of reckless, harebrained scheme she would have expected from Persia.

But her own wedding wasn’t the right time to get into a hissy match with her daughter. Maddugh, damn him, had watched the argument with amusement. And she was pretty sure her stepsons were quietly placing bets. Not the eldest one, Nuaddan. He barely spoke.

Kailigh pressed her forehead against a window, staring up at the moon. She knew the trouble wasn’t resolved—not really. But now she had to worry about her daughters running off half cocked. Wonderful.

The door opened and Maddugh approached her from behind, arms wrapping around her torso as his hands swept up to cup her breasts. She’d chosen a sleeveless gown in black with heavy red embroidery at the hems, tiny winking diamonds sewn into the skirt. The heart shaped bustier pushed her breasts up. She’d seen his eye flicker during the ceremony—though no one else would have noticed the Dragon Lord couldn’t keep his attention on his bride’s face.

Kailigh hissed, leaning against him as his fingers pinched her nipples, mouth kissing the side of her neck.

“Say my name, wife,” he murmured in her ear.

Kai bit her bottom lip as he began to bunch her gown, pulling it up slowly to expose first her calves, then her thighs.

“Maddugh,” she said, tensing in anticipation. Nothing innocent ever came from a man lifting a woman’s skirts.

“Not good enough,” he said. “Kai—no panties? How naughty.”

His fingers delved into her curls, conveniently bared because she had, indeed, forgone undergarments. All the better for a quick tumble in between dinner courses.

“You know if you scream in this room everyone will hear you.” His voice was a deep, satisfied purr, as if he didn’t care if anyone heard her at all.

Kai gasped, knees trembling when his fingers entered her, thumb brushing her clit.

“Will you let me take you right here, on the floor, with everyone just a thin door away?” he asked. “Are you mine, Kailigh?”

He knew he was tormenting her, taunting her. She didn’t care. Kai allowed her knees to buckle, sliding to the floor. Maddugh dropped with her, not relinquishing his grip. A hand tangled in her coiffed hair, pulling her neck back so he could access her mouth. She didn’t care that the hairpins were tinkling to the floor. Didn’t care that everyone would know what they had been doing. Only cared about his lips on hers, his tongue ravishing her mouth while his fingers were deep inside, preparing her for an entry she knew would be tight, but delicious.

She rubbed against him, teasing his cock with the warmth of her buttocks.

“Forward,” he said, hand moving to the small of her back.

Kailigh leaned forward onto her hands and knees gladly, glancing over her shoulder to look at the male who hurried to undo his trousers and free himself, eyes burning, a iridescent sheen crawling over his skin as his pupils narrowed to slits. And he was free, velvety length hard, the tip moist. He pushed her skirts up over her hips, exposing her to his view. Maddugh grasped her waist and Kailigh arched properly, inhaling as he nudged her entrance.

His heat seared, the width of him an exquisite torture as he slid inside. Kai moaned, widening her thighs, the fullness giving her a feeling of sensual helplessness. A satisfying friction as he began to pump back and forth, trusting her to handle his strength, his passion.

“Yes, moan for me, Kai,” he said, the deep gravelly tone betraying his uncontrolled lust. “Every night for the rest of our lives.”

She wasn’t certain she could handle this every night, and wondered if he was a male who didn’t mind a woman’s monthly.

Kailigh laughed, as much as she could with so little breath. “Have mercy, my Lord.”

His fingers flexed on her hips, breath catching, then he exploded in a fury of thrusts, taking her harder, spurred by her words. Kailigh screamed, unable to hold back when her pleasure crested, mind too far gone to even care if the guests heard.

His roar followed moments later, hot seed flooding her body, swelling inside her with a final burst of energy until she feared they might fuse together. He ground against her, not a whisper of air between their bodies.

“Maddugh…” she whispered.

His hand tangled in her hair. “I want a child with you, Kai.”

She knew. But she also had the feeling it wasn’t the right time. She needed to be at her fastest, her most alert, in case the girls pulled a stunt.

“In time,” she said.

He helped her straighten her clothing. There was nothing to do about the scent covering them both—she’d have to walk through the crowd to get to her suite.

“Nuaddan and Amnan will watch over them,” her husband said, hands going around her waist. “They won’t get far with any schemes without us being alerted.”

Her brow arched. “Not Hrutha?”

Maddugh snorted. “He will just egg them on. Come, my darling. Let’s go back to the party. We can conspire against our children in the morning.”

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A brilliant scientist caught between two worlds. A winged Prince fallen from his throne. An enemy determined to destroy them both…

He protected her, trained her to be a warrior. Surah, the daughter of a human and the former prince’s favorite concubine, endured the scorn of the gargoyle court growing up. She doesn’t care- the only warrior who matters is Malin, and she will cure his genetic disease if it kills her.

It very well may. Enemies at court try to stop her research- enemies who don’t want Malin to reclaim his throne, or to see her as his mate and Princess. They threaten her life, and her research, but she must prevail. If she fails, she will have no protector, and will be sold by her half-brother in marriage to the highest bidder.

This is a steamy paranormal shifter romance featuring hot, winged alpha males and a smart, strong heroine. With a futuristic flair, this is for readers who enjoy urban fantasy, dragon shifters (because hot men with wings are hot men with wings), surprise babies and stories with rich characters, meaningful relationships and plenty of action and adventure.

* * *

CHAPTER ONE

Genetic research wasn’t all that profitable these days. Surah wondered if she should chuck it and open a marijuana dispensary instead. Rifling through her assistant’s notes, Surah analyzed the data. Speed reading the conclusions, her heart rate spiked, just a little. Evidently, after several years of painstaking work, they were close to an answer. She’d given up on the research, like a coward, not wanting to continue to see the veiled hope in Malin’s eyes die. She’d silenced her guilt and gnawing worry with wine and partying with her brother, but now it seemed as if dumping the entire project in Cole's lap was the action that might save them both; Malin, and Surah.

If Malin died, so would the best part of Surah's heart. And Malin had no clue of her feelings.

“Surah.”

She looked up, eyes focusing on the female standing in the doorway of her office in human form. Lavinia Mogren, her half-brother Geza’s Councilor. And the last person she wanted to see.

“How did you get in here?” she asked.

“Through the front door, of course.”

Of course. Surah had changed the codes twice in the last month–a constant cat-and-mouse game with the Council. They might fund her, but they could keep their claws out of her research. She was a professional. That meant refusing to work with a walking, winged-statue breathing over her shoulder.

“Councilor.” Surah's tone should have frosted the glass in the door. “It’s past working hours. You can make an appointment for the morning.”

Lavinia smiled, stepping into the room; swept aside the hem of her long dress as if there was refuse on the floor. “I don’t think so. I admire the work you do here, Surah. I’ve been meaning to sit and speak to you about it for a while now.”

Surah tugged on her braid, irritated. The floors were plain white tile, waxed clean by bots every night. But, probably, the stench of humans offended Lavinia’s nostrils. Gargoyles, though a minority of the Seattle area population, tended to view themselves at the top of the food chain. Because they kept mostly to themselves, rarely interfering in human culture and vice-versa, they could mostly get away with that crap. Surah, straddling the middle of both societies, knew better. All she had to do was open the latest digital issue of The Stone Lover, and skim all the articles and photos keeping up with the latest gargoyle gossip. Malin was in there all the time, Seattle’s resident ‘human’ gargoyle—and Surah was usually there as well. She was the only Ioveanu Princess.

She sighed. “Take a seat.”

As much as the female irritated her, if Lavinia yanked her support of the project, the funding would soon follow. So she’d play the Councilor’s little verbal tap dance–and then kick her ass out so Surah could go home. No, wait. Geza’s damn soiree. Had to show her face at the Palace, that three-towered, stone monstrosity of a complex taking up several city blocks on one of Seattle’s more visible hills, and then maybe she could get some rest. At least there would be decent wine, plenty of it.

Fingers snapped in front of her face–nails a little too sharp, a little too curved, to be fully mortal. Surah started, looking up. Lavinia frowned at her, dark eyes narrowed.

“Do you need a nap?” Lavinia asked with a snap in her voice. She shifted, flexing phantom wings. They wouldn’t come out until night. “I was speaking to you.”

“A nap would be fabulous, actually. What’s your poison, Lavinia? I’ve got work to do before I can go home.”

Lavinia’s gaze held hers, mouth firm. She wouldn’t bother with a lecture on respect for elders and proper formality–Surah outranked her. “You’ve been unsuccessful–for five years–in formulating a solution to the Princes’ weakness.”

“It’s a genetic, degenerative disease, Councilor. I don’t know why you call it the-”

“I’d like you to ensure you remain unsuccessful.”

Surah shut her mouth. “What?”

Lavinia’s smile lacked humor. “Tell me. How different would your childhood have been if you weren’t plagued by your brothers? If you’d been free from blood associations that dictated your destiny?”

For one thing, she only had one brother. Half-sister to the current Prince, Geza, through their mother Adagia, many also forgot that Geza’s eldest half-brother, Malin, was not related to Surah at all. But the tenor of Lavinia’s question struck her. She knew the gargoyle taught political science to humans at a local university, on staff as their token gargoyle-to-human cultural ambassador.

“Are you starting to buy into your own curriculum, Professor?”

Lavinia tilted her head. Woven into a tight braid, her hair didn’t budge even a strand. “What I believe,” she replied slowly, “is that the monarchy is weak. Geza is weak. His father, Ciodaru, was weak.”

Surah's fingers thrummed along her desk. “What I do here isn’t political, it’s medical. You know—improving lives, not making them miserable. The Ioveanu’s aren’t the only family with this disease, just the most visible. What do I have to do with politics?”

Lavinia shook her head, eyes never leaving Surah’s. “You’re a fool if you think what you do here isn’t political. What do you think will happen if Malin is cured?”

“He’ll be able to shift every night without pain,” Surah snapped. “He won’t face a future where shifting at all is impossible–trapping him in human form for the rest of his long life.”

“No. He will take back the throne.” The words fell between them like stones. “There will be war between the Princes, and you caught in between.” Lavinia rose, looking down at her. “You love them both. Which one do you want to die?” Turning, she strode towards the entrance. Paused before stepping out, hand on the lintel. “Will you do as I ask?”

“Nope. It’s not personal, though.” She had to tack that last bit on–she couldn’t afford to make a personal enemy of Lavinia Mogren.

Lavinia glanced back at her as she exited, dark eyes glittering. “Nor will be my response. Careful in the choices you make, Surah. You are only half of us, and therefore as weak in your way as your full-blooded brothers.”

Surah folded her arms, bored. “Is that a threat? It’s not very imaginative.”

Lavinia didn’t reply, just studied her one moment longer then left. Surah waited a few minutes before speaking. “Lana?”

A disembodied voice of indeterminate age filled the air. “How may I serve, O Fearless Leader?”

“Lana, change the entrance codes and set to eye print verification.”

“Clearance level 5A is required to request-”

Surah rattled off the access code, a little smug–it had taken three days and a huge favor to get that clearance.

“Request accepted.”

Perfect. “Dim lights to twenty percent and turn on focus playlist three.”

“Request accepted.”

Classical music filled the air, the crooning male tenor and jarring electrical guitar beat energizing. She sighed, sitting back in her chair.

The next gargoyle who came to ask her to commit treason had better knock.

* * *

“Should have told me you weren’t in the mood for company,” Kausar said, voice gruff.

Malin turned and left the balcony off the kitchen, the blades of his shoulders itching. His old weapons master was required to stay indoors where the bright beat of sunlight wouldn’t blind his eyes. This far up in the sky, there were no trees or buildings to block that mad orb. Several miles away, the Space Needle cowered under the shadow of his manmade aerie. A half block away–the required distance he’d negotiated with the city, an air trolley full of tourists pointed, snapping photos with their wrist units. The flashes annoyed him, but he was used to it; he was Seattle’s only resident billionaire gargoyle after all. And the only gargoyle who came out so readily during the day. Kausar was a strong, purebred gargoyle; Malin was weak.

Malin smiled, no humor in the expression. He was impervious to sun these days, even with Surah’s experimenting and relentless insistence that he ‘take his meds.’

“I’m not the best company even on a good day, old friend,” Malin said. “But your presence here is welcome. It reminds me of home.”

A home he was no longer part of, except on the very peripheral of what being the brother of the ruling Prince required. Brother to the Prince, when once he had ruled. He didn’t quite regret leaving behind the command of the host. But spending his days surrounded by humans, even high-powered, high-energy, faultlessly intelligent humans…grated.

“You in pain?” Kausar asked, always blunt. He was the only one, besides Surah, who referred to Malin’s genetic illness with open candor. Like a soldier. But then, Kausar didn’t think he was any weaker than a warrior with an old war injury.

“It’s nothing.” He set his water bottle down on a counter. “Surah does what she can.”

“That girl’s a warrior,” Kausar replied, stern warmth in his voice. He adored the ‘girl’, though he’d never let anyone know. Was as close to a father to her as any male had been–and had trained her along with Malin and Geza. “Needs a mate. Prince trying to give her off to one of his…warriors.” Kausar’s sneer was brief, but genuine.

“Who?”

His weapons master gave him a wary, calculated look. “Eh, not telling you, boy. You’ll start a war.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You want the girl. Don’t know why you won’t take her. You’re as good a male as any. Better. And she loves you.”

“Like a brother.”

Kausar snorted. “Didn’t think the disease affected your brains, but I guess it does. Too damn bad.”

“I practically raised her, Kausar.”

He glanced up at the ceiling. “Been around humans too long. That makes you even better for her–you already know her, and she’s comfortable with you. Would you rather she be used as a wife by a stranger? Or loved by a male with her best interests at heart?”

It was a sign of his wavering resolve that Malin didn’t protest the word love. He might have, even a year ago. But he was tired, and Surah’s company soothed him, and he just wanted some peace, some comfort before he completely succumbed to the daylight. With her half-human blood, she could exist in both worlds as he did, and not look at him with scorn when he could no longer shift and fly the night skies.

“I’ll think about it,” Malin said. “I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Start with, ‘Would you like to go to dinner?’”

Courting advice from Kausar–who was single. Perfect.

* * *

He decided on lunch, at the last minute, his nerves giving way as soon as he heard her voice. He, former Prince of the Gargoyle Host in the Pacific Northwest, renowned warrior–former warrior–filthy rich business mogul with human women throwing themselves in his lap….and his testy foster sister scared him to death.

“Communicator, connect with Surah.”

“Malin, what’s up?” she asked. A 3-D stationary image shimmered to life on his desk. She must have her live feed off again. He heard the tap of keys in the background, knew she was in her lab.

“Meet me for lunch this week. I have something I want your opinion on.”

“Weird, but okay. Just message when you’re ready.”

She sounded distracted, about to disconnect. This wasn’t going right. He should say something else… “How are you today?”

“What? I’m fine. This formula–son of a…! I hate this computer. Cole! Cooolllleee!”

Malin winced, fingers thrumming his desk. “You’re busy.”

“What were you saying? Look, if it’s important, you should just come to the lab, your key codes still work.”

“That will anger the Council.”

“Fuck the Council. They only think I work for them.”

He blinked. She rarely swore, and only when someone had run afoul of her temper. “Careful, my Lady. You are still beholden to the Court, and half-sister to its Prince.”

“Blah blah blah. Cole, hey, take a look at this mess. Do we need to order new machines or did I just break it? Lana, can you run an analysis?”

“Please define parameters.”

Malin sighed.

“Hey, look, Malin, just holler when you want those eats, okay? You’re buying. Lana-”

She disconnected as he said, “Of course.” That was the way courting worked, wasn’t it? Except she didn’t know they were courting. He wondered how he was going to tell her.

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WELCOME TO POWYRWORLD, where dragons, wytches, and vampyrs battle for power and survival among humans, and their ancient, demigod ancestors watch from afar- willing to step in and restore balance should any one conflict threaten the survival of the planet…

The Lost Dragon Princes: The identities of the 5 missing Princes’ of the Dragon Court are finally revealed…

Dragon Star by Anna Morgan. Vampyr rockstar prince meet- and mate- beautiful dragon general.

Dragon Claimed by Cecilia Lane. Dragon Court spy meets her match- and her mate- in a Shadow Mob boss.

Dragon Blood by S.A. Ravel. A Thunderbird skinwalker seeks the help of a reclusive dragon wizard against the dark mage threatening their secret baby.

Dragon Mob by Tiffany Allee coming soon

Dragon Prince by Emma Alisyn coming soon

Each title is a standalone connected with the book before and after, but the series does not need to be read in order of publication.

These paranormal urban fantasy romance books are for readers who enjoy fast-paced action, adventure with lots of magic, steamy love scenes and heroines who kick ass. Our heroes are alpha shifters who fight, growl, and kill concrete for their mates- but never cheat or try and hold a girl back when her earrings come off. Each romance will be a standalone with a happily ever after, no cheating, no TSTL or miscommunication and plenty of heart pounding personal conflict.

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About the Author

Emma Alisyn writes paranormal romance because teaching high school biology wasn’t like how it is on television. Her lions, tigers, and bears will most interest readers who like their alphas strong, protective and smokin’ hot; their heroines feisty, brainy and bootilicious; and their stories with lots of chemistry, tension and plenty of tender moments.

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