With those words, Ailean the Wicked took to the air and back to Bercelak’s mother. Shalin . . . the Tamer of Ailean the Wicked.
Bercelak turned and headed back to the Queen’s Hall. As he passed other dragons, they greeted him but none challenged him. Instead they kept their eyes turned away. Except for some of the females who openly showed their lust. Apparently the fact that he hadn’t Claimed Rhiannon caught their interests as well.
Many of his brothers and sisters waited for him in the Hall. They would stay until Rhiannon’s reign was secure. The best fighters of his kin, including Ghleanna, had gone off to confront Rhiannon’s siblings. They would not wait for them to come to her.
“Everything all right?” he asked his remaining siblings.
They all nodded, but Addolgar motioned up the many stairs that led to what would now be Rhiannon’s bedchamber . . . his bedchamber.
“She’s gone up. Lots of activity with the servants since she went up there, too.”
Bercelak nodded as he stared up that long corridor. Strange how he suddenly felt a little . . . well, nervous. A Battle Lord who’d faced death on many, many occasions made nervous by one white dragon?
Then again . . . what if she’d changed her mind? True, they’d already been lovers but she coul d, in theory, make a case with the Elders. The thought that she may have changed her mind chilled the blood in his veins. He couldn’t lose her now.
Of course there was only one way to find out what she thought. And that was to face her head on, as his father had trained them all to do with every challenge.
“Worried she changed her mind?” Addolgar asked.
“It’s not an unreasonable thought.”
“Aye. Perhaps. But you’ll never know until . . .”
“I know. Until I face her.”
“The worse she can do, brother, is turn you to ash.”
Bercelak looked at his kin and his brother merely smiled.
“Bastard.”
With that last word, Bercelak headed up the stairs to his future.
Chapter 12
Bercelak walked into the queen’s chamber only to find it empty. Completely empty. Which seemed strange. He figured Addiena would at least have a treasure to rest upon.
Personally, he found lying on gold and jewels rather uncomfortable.
“Ah, my lord . . . the queen has moved chambers.”
Bercelak turned to look at who spoke to him, but he didn’t see anyone.
“Down here, my lord.”
He looked down and his eyes widened in surprise. This was no dragon in human form, but a human . . . sort of. It was actually a centaur. A female. Quite pretty—although she smelled like horse. Which made him a tad hungry.
“And you are?”
“I am attendant to the throne, my lord.”
“I’ve never seen you before.”
“I often stay in the shadows . . . as you can imagine, my lord.” She glanced at her hindquarter which was . . . well . . . a horse’s hindquarter. “It is much safer for me that way.”
With an understanding smile, Bercelak nodded his head. “I understand.”
“Please, my lord. Follow me. She’s waiting for you.”
“Is she armed?”
The centaur’s head tilted to the side. “I’m sorry?”
“Never mind.” He motioned to her. “Go. I will follow.”
She did and he admired the beauty of Rhiannon’s servant. Her hair and hide were a dark brown, but her eyes were a startling blue. Her long hair covered her chest, so she wore nothing but her skin and hide. How he’d never seen her before, he’d never know. But centaurs had strong Magicks, so perhaps she could protect herself from the dragons’ keen senses.
She stopped outside a smaller but still enormous chamber. “She is inside, my lord.”
“Thank you.”
With a small smile, the centaur said, “I will make sure no one disturbs you at least until morn.”
Bercelak chuckled and said again with much sincerity, “Thank you.”
Then she was gone. Just like that. Bercelak looked around but he couldn’t see her anywhere.
Interesting, but of no real concern. Besides, he had bigger issues at the moment.
With a deep intake of breath, Bercelak entered the new queen’s chamber.
“Rhiannon?”
He couldn’t see her anywhere. But he did see the enormous bed she had set up in one corner. That made him smile. Seemed his princess had come to enjoy the benefits of a human body.
On a whim, he shifted to human and walked toward the bed. “Rhiannon? Where are you?”
He reached the bed and looked down at the animal skins covering it. He felt his c*ck harden at the thoughts of what he planned to do to his princess in this bed. What he planned to do to her for hundreds of years if all went as planned.
“Rhiannon?” he called again.
Suddenly she slammed into his back, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. She was human and deliciously nak*d.
“Ha!”
It took him a moment, but he realized Rhiannon was . . . well . . . attacking him.
Grunting, she had firm hold of his neck and actually tried to throw him on his back.
“What in bloody hell are you doing?” He wasn’t angry. Just greatly perplexed.
“What?” she panted as she did her best to drop him to the floor. “You thought this Claiming would be easy? You’ll have to fight for me!”
The fact she couldn’t get him to budge or even wind him, seemed to irritate her as she growled in his ear. Of course, the sound only made his c*ck pulse in time to his heart and lust.
Crossing his arms over his chest and bracing his feet apart, “Didn’t I just fight for you?”
“No. You fought for your queen, who is me. But in order to Claim Rhiannon the dragoness . . . you’ll have to fight me.”
“Oh. Is that right?”
“Well, you didn’t think I’d just roll over, did you?”
“Actually I was hoping for an on-all-fours sort of thing.”
“You’ll have to do more than hope, Low Born.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” she said with her usual dose of arrogance.
With a smile, Bercelak reached back with one arm, his forearm stretching over her and his fingers taking tight hold of her under her armpit. With a smile, he flipped her over his shoulder and slammed her onto the bed.
“I win!” he cheered.
Bastard!
She should have been much sneakier. She forgot the stories his siblings told her about Ailean’s way of raising his offspring. When she slammed into his back, although she knew he never sensed her coming, the big ox never even moved. She could have been a fairy or a piece of dust from the way she affected him.
Gods, she loved him.
She looked up into his smiling face. He’d knocked the wind out of her by slamming her on the bed so hard, but she really had no one to blame but herself.
He moved closer but his big feet hit something under the bed and he glanced down only to look back at her with a huge grin. He did that a lot now, and she loved it.
“I’m guessing my sisters helped you get your chamber set up, eh, Rhiannon?”
He reached down and when he stood tall again, he held those damn chains in his hands. “I love how my kin cares for me so.”
“Dammit!” She tried to scramble away from him, but as strong as he was, he was also unbelievably fast. He caught hold of her around the waist and slammed her back to the bed.
“Oh, no, no, my love. You wanted me to Claim you properly. Then Claim you I shall. So that everyone knows it.”
Gods, what did that mean?
The collar snapped around her neck and she growled in protest.
“Don’t complain. You know you love it.”
She did, but she wasn’t about to admit that.
Once he had the collar on securely and the chain that ran from it in his hand, he pulled her up the bed until her head nearly touched the headboard. Then the bastard clamped cuffs on her wrists and chained her arms to the bedpost.
And his sisters suggested this bloody bedpost! I’ll have to thank them later, she thought happily to herself.
Now it was true she could, finally, shift back to dragon at anytime, but then . . . so could he. Besides, where would be the fun in that? Bercelak stood up and stared at her with both her arms bound.
Gods, the heat in his eyes made her wet and needy. As it always did. No one had ever looked at her like that. True, she’d seen lust before, but never so mingled with love.
He glanced at her legs. “Hhhm. I’d hate for you to kick me,” he muttered to himself.
“Don’t you dare!”
Which, of course, meant he would dare.
Bercelak’s big fingers dragged along her body as he slowly walked to the foot of the bed. He stopped long enough to gently grip a nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeeze. She barely stopped that moan in time, but he saw her struggle and grinned.
Then he was moving again. Once he reached the end of the bed, he locked a chain to the tall bedpost and then grabbed hold of her foot, cuffing it.
He walked to the other side, the whole time staring at her.
“Gods, Rhiannon, you are beautiful. Whether as dragon or human . . . you’re beautiful.”
She’d had other males say similar words to her in the past, but never with such passion and, because Bercelak wanted only her and not her crown, those words meant so much more than anything anyone had said before.
Her other foot locked to the bedpost, she now lay spread eagle and open for his pleasure. She couldn’t wait.
Instead of taking her, though, he stared at her for long moments and finally she couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
“What? What are you staring at?”
“I’m thinking about what I’m going to do to you. I want everyone to know that you belong to me, Rhiannon. Everyone. Tell me now if that’s not what you want.”
Ooh. This was going to hurt. But it would be a shortlived pain and she wanted all to know she belonged to him. She wanted dragons from far and wide to know that to even look at her was to risk her mate’s wrath.
“No more words, Low Born. Don’t waste my time. Just do what you intend or let me go.”
He nodded once and then he was on the bed, his mouth over her human foot. Right by that oddly shaped “big toe.” Bercelak’s talented tongue slid across her toe and down the top of her foot. And where his tongue went, a brutal pain followed as he burned her. Most dragon mates marked a shoulder or wrist. Some a breast or, the one’s with senses of humor, the ass. But Bercelak was his father’s son and when he took a woman he wanted everyone to know he’d Claimed her. Kin or enemy. Friend or foe. They would all know.
She bit her lip to keep in the screams of pain she wanted to unleash as Bercelak’s tongue wound its way across her exposed body. And where his tongue couldn’t reach, he let out a lash of Magick-imbued flame to do the job for him. But even as the pain grew worse and worse, so did the feeling that was growing steadily along her spine and in her p**sy.
As she fought to keep her cries of pain in, she also fought to keep in her screams of lust. By the time his tongue slid across her belly, she arched her back and screamed out her cli**x. But he didn’t stop. Not her Bercelak. He kept going, his tongue moving up her body, across her ribs, and around one breast to lash across a nipple. That’s when another cli**x racked her. Still, he wasn’t done. His tongue slid across her upper chest and collar bone, then across her neck, finally stopping as he stroked her jaw.