He shook his head at her and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not trying to scare you, you should be scared. There is magic in Cairngloss that should be left alone. I steer clear of it and so should you.”
Her brow furrowed as if she were trying to figure out his angle.
Damn, this was going to be harder than he thought. He was far too attracted to her. She was more than charming, she was entrancing, with her deep black eyes and long white hair. Everything about her went straight to his cock. He forced himself to take an additional step back.
She stared past him at the thin tendrils of purple magic lying like a spider’s web over the entrance to the crystal cave. “What’s that? That’s Tuathan magic, isn’t it? It looks very powerful. Is that the reason you don’t go this way?”
“That’s the spell that held the prince prisoner. It covers every section of the complex but mine. It shouldn’t harm you. It was designed to keep him in, not others out.”
“Then why are you trying to scare me?”
“I’m trying to keep you safe. There are magics beyond this wall that are more than you can handle.”
“I’m not a child.” She lifted her chin and faced him head on. He couldn’t help but admire her courage, but he couldn’t have her wandering around getting into things she didn’t understand and couldn’t handle.
“No, you are most definitely not a child.” He looked her up and down and her fair skin turned a heated red. “But the last time you tangled with a Tuathan queen didn’t go so well. Did it?”
“No.” The light died from her eyes and her shoulders slumped. “I think I’m getting tired.”
Her skin had paled and he frowned at her. “We’ve done too much today. We’ll head back.” They turned around, starting the long walk back to the lair. “Just remember, I have no reason to lie to you about the rest of Cairngloss.”
She laughed. “Well, of course you don’t. You’re elvatian, right? None of us can lie.”
He shook his head at her and extended his arm, offering her his elbow over a rough patch of fallen rock. “My lady, shall I escort you back to your chamber?”
She nodded, the spark was back in her eyes, but her face was still too pale for his pleasure.
My, she was an innocent. There was no need to tell her that he wasn’t elvatian at all. And that yes, dragons could—and frequently did—lie.
He’d left her in her room, sleeping off the effects of another meal, and had spent the intervening hours stocking up on food for her. He really was going to have to find a better solution. How could someone so thin put so much food away. He went hunting for himself, but he couldn’t see her flying with him and diving into a herd of deer for supper.
He paced the open spot he’d left on the floor of his lair, carefully keeping his tail from dragging into the piles of treasure. Maeve thought she could control him by refusing him his due? Mess with the balance of power? She’d have to think again. He’d take care of her. Soon. He’d been waiting a long time to do so. But until he figured out how to detach her from the Winter Palace, he’d have to bide his time.
He curled up on his trove, nose to tail, and dozed, thinking about the past and letting the magic stored in the precious metals soak into his skin.
Seven male dragons—not true nest brothers, but bonded by their word—had come looking for a new world with a strong source of magic that could feed their queens. Each one had been responsible for an egg—the last queen eggs of their population nearly decimated by war. As queen eggs were unformed and would blend with the habitat they were incubated in, each of the drakes had hidden an egg in a spot beneficial to their type of dragon on the world of Underhill.
At the time, Underhill was under populated, with no dragons but with an abundance of the magic they thrived on. Being male dragons and not known for their patience, they’d gone back to their own world to fight the last fight and wait the thousand years it took for a queen egg to hatch.
When their world had finally been lost to the black dragon, Vollenth, Doyle had come back to check on the egg he’d hidden in a cold remote piece of Underhill where it should have been safely developing into a baby ice dragon. But the few hundred years he’d been gone had been too long.
Instead of a few standing stones anchoring the mists of Underhill and surrounded by mountains empty of people, he’d found an ice fortress built on top of the egg’s hiding place. And sitting on top, like a toad on a mud pile, the self-titled Winter Queen.
He’d raged and nearly razed her to the ground. But the clever bitch had insinuated her life force into each and every wall. If he killed her, the palace would implode, taking the queen egg with it. His only saving grace was that, as far as he could see, she had no idea that she sat over the baby queen’s hiding place. So he’d settled in and tried to figure out what the hell he needed to do. The egg was safe and not near to hatching.
Until now.
The time for the egg was fast approaching—there was no more time to waste. He had to have a solution. Maeve was growing in power and the small fortress she’d built had grown into a massive complex defended by powerful Tuathan lords created out of boys Maeve had manipulated into total loyalty. If he didn’t take action soon, the egg, the last female ice dragon in the known universe, would hatch with no way out.
He’d run out of time.
Letting his sleepy state expand into meditation Doyle left his body, traveling in soul form on the astral. He took the ancient star paths and called out to his brethren. They met at the appointed place, each one anchoring their energies to one of the seven stars that made up the constellation of the wheel.
“Doyle, why have you called us?” Carrig, a glowing amber light on his star, asked. “Is your queen hatching?”
“I can’t be pulled away like this. What do you want.” Even on the astral, Dray sounded surly.
Doyle knew he would get no help from the black dragon, but still he had to try. He took a deep metaphysical breath. He’d run out of options.
“I am in a quandary. My queen is close to hatching, but I still haven’t been able to move that bitch off of her frozen throne. And now she seems to be building even more walls and growing in power. I need you to come up here.”
“All of us? Are you insane?” The muttering of his brothers nearly pushed him out of the astral.
He struggled to hold his concentration. “No, I’m not insane. I thought I’d figure a way to detach Maeve from her palace, but she only gets stronger and her ice power is too similar to mine. I need one of you with a different perspective, a different strength to help me see a new path.”
“You ask too late, brother. We are all too close to hatching to risk leaving our queens,” Carrig said.
“But mine is in danger.” His star flared a bright white light.
“And would you have us leave our queens in danger, just to rescue yours?” Dray’s star flared like a black diamond in response. “You left her too long alone.”
The thought of the tiny queen hatching beneath the ice, trying to claw her way out, only to face a stronger and stronger Maeve, enraged Doyle. “I can fight my way into the palace, I can face the lords she has fed with power, but I am only one. While I face her, I cannot kill her or I risk the egg’s safety. I need one of you to help the queen when she hatches while I keep the queen from latching her tentacles into her. If that happens, she’ll suck her dry.”