Kiss of Embers (The Dragon Lairds #5)

Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

ZARA

M y stomach dropped as I stared at the dragon.

No, dragons . Plural. They mated in threes, and they were ruthless when it came to their women. Everyone knew that.

And two had just declared me theirs in front of everyone competing in the Games. All at once, I became aware of hundreds of pairs of eyes on me. The clearing was utterly still and silent—and I stood in its center, chills coursing through me as the pair of dragons stared me down like they owned me.

Like they wanted to devour me. A shiver went down my spine. At the same time, panic fluttered in my chest. I needed the elixir. How was I going to win the Games with two dominant, powerful men dogging my steps?

Brader turned to Bolveg. “This isn’t fair. If these two really believe Zara is theirs, they won’t let anyone get near her. It’ll give her an unfair advantage in the Games.” Brader looked around, appealing to the crowd. “They’re trying to rig this competition. All three of them should be expelled at once.”

My jaw dropped. Was he fucking serious? “You mean you’re trying to rig it,” I said, but my response was lost as mutters rippled through the gathering. Competitors nodded their heads, clearly agreeing with Brader.

“Ashcroft is right, Bolveg!” someone shouted. “The female will have an unfair advantage.”

I whirled, struggling to find the naysayer in the crowd. “That’s not true! I’m competing on behalf of my pack, and I’ll accept no help from anyone. I reject the dragons’ claim.”

A deep growl had me spinning back around. The dragons stared at me—and now there was no mistaking them for anything other than predators. Muscles bulged under their clothes. An aura of danger swirled around them like the smoke forms they were rumored to take when they wanted to move quickly.

The black-haired dragon stepped toward me, his blue eyes glittering like sapphires. “You can’t reject fate, lass,” he said in a lilting accent. “None of us can.”

My senses tingled as I held his stare. Werewolf , my instincts murmured. His mother must have been one. It was hardly an earth-shattering revelation. With the sole exception of their king, all dragons carried blood from one of the other Firstborn Races. But the blue-eyed dragon wasn’t kindred. My instincts told me that, too. And even if they hadn’t, I’d grown up hearing stories about the dragons at my father’s knee. Tales abounded of them kidnapping women and carrying them off to castles in the Scottish Highlands against their will.

The dragon beckoned to me. “Come, woman.”

Speech deserted me as my temper flared. Had he just summoned me like someone might call a dog? My hand itched for my sword. I plastered what I hoped was a menacing smile on my face. “Would it be easier if I sat at your feet? Maybe I’ll roll over so you can scratch my belly.”

A few of the men around me chuckled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one nudge his neighbor and murmur, “This should be good.”

The dragon lowered his hand. Understanding spread over his face, and he nodded. “You’re angry. This must be a shock for you. But you’ll get used to it. Whether you will it or not, you belong to us. All that remains is for us to woo you.” His eyes glittered. “Rest assured, we’re up to the challenge.”

Breathtaking arrogance . I could almost admire it. But I’d experienced it far too often as the sole female on the Council. Most of the alphas were closer to Brader’s age than mine—and their attitudes about women matched their birthdates. After a year of absorbing their bullshit, my tolerance for male posturing was at an all-time low.

“I belong to myself,” I said, holding the dragon’s blue gaze. “It appears fate has led you astray. Because I feel nothing for you.”

“That’s because you haven’t felt us yet,” the other dragon said. The black-haired dragon had called him Finn. The name seemed far too playful for such a tall, broad-shouldered male. A smile curved his lips, revealing the tips of sharp-looking fangs. “But you will, Zara.” His Scottish accent curled around my name, the musical cadence lifting the hair on my nape. Red flickered through his gray eyes. “Just as soon as we can manage it.”

More soft laughter rose from the crowd. Someone on the other side of the clearing let out a wolf whistle.

My cheeks heated, rumors of dragon mating practices running through my memory. Supposedly, the male pairs bound their female to them through ritual language only dragons could speak. Then they took her together , filling her in every way possible.

And Finn had just told everyone in the clearing that he and his mate intended to do the same to me. They’d declared me theirs without so much as introducing themselves—or asking what I thought about their so-called claim. In a few sentences, they’d reduced me to a sexual object instead of a thinking, breathing being with my own thoughts and goals.

More masculine laughter rippled around the clearing—all of it at my expense.

“And you’ll like it, lass,” Finn added.

My fangs punched down. I bared them as I surged forward.

“Zara!” Drute caught my arm, hauling me back before I could punch the smile off Finn’s face. As I stumbled into Drute, the black-haired dragon roared.

In a blur of movement, Finn drew a dagger. The blade flashed in the moonlight as he fixed his red-sheened gaze on Drute. “That’s the last time you touch her, gargoyle.” As if they coordinated it, he and the black-haired dragon sprang forward, murder in their eyes.

Inessa appeared in front of them, one hand outstretched. Her skin glowed more brightly, and her white skirts fluttered in a breeze that defied the still, stagnant air hanging over the clearing.

“Hold up, boys,” she said. “Woo all you want, but do it without violence.”

For a moment, both dragons looked like they might challenge the goddess. The whole clearing seemed to hold its breath. More than one man around me shifted on his feet, seemingly ready for all hell to break loose. Behind Inessa, Bolveg looked like he dearly wished to channel as far away from the jungle as possible.

Finally, the dragons looked at each other. Some kind of unspoken communication passed between them, and then the black-haired dragon turned to Inessa and inclined his head. “Verra well. We’ll behave.”

Inessa lowered her arm. She gave him an appreciative look, a dimple appearing in her cheek. “I do love a well-behaved Highlander.”

Brader stalked forward, his handsome features twisted in a scornful expression. “Their behavior proves my point,” he told Inessa. “They were ready to attack just now. Who else will they attack once the competition begins?” He flung a hand toward Finn, who still held the dagger. “Already, they flout the rules.” Brader turned his gaze to the crowd. “How will any of us compete if we’re constantly worried about a dragon slitting our throats?”

“The wolf is right!” someone called. “It’s not fair for the dragons to compete.”

“Or the female!” another shouted. “All three should be disqualified.”

“No!” I protested, panic clawing at my throat. I looked at Inessa—and Bolveg behind her. “You can’t kick me out when I’ve done nothing wrong. If you’re worried about fairness, ban the dragons from the Games.”

Inessa gave me a sympathetic look. “Oh, girl. If you think banning dragons will keep them away from you, I have vexing news.”

One of the silver-haired fae who passed Drute and me back at the camp shoved his way to Bolveg’s side. The fae bent his head and spoke in a low voice in Bolveg’s ear. “The crowd grows restless, demon. You need to make a decision now or wrap up for the night.”

Bolveg cast a nervous-looking glance around the clearing. “Yes, yes. Perhaps we should, ah, make a decision.” He shot Inessa a hopeful expression. “Goddess?”

Everyone looked at her.

She shrugged, sending a thick spiral of red hair sliding over one glowing shoulder. “You run the Rules Committee. My retainer clearly states that I’m in charge of the fountain. The contract was very specific.” She gave a long-suffering sigh as she examined her glossy red nails. “Lawyers, am I right?”

The crowd looked at Bolveg. He frowned and then turned toward the platform, where the other demons still stood at the edge. The female, whose horns were the same pale shade as her hair, lifted worried eyes to the crowd.

“Perhaps,” she said slowly, “we should take this decision under advisement for the night. We’ll issue a final ruling at twilight tomorrow. That way, everyone can start the challenge fresh and without distraction.”

A few groans peppered the air, but several competitors nodded. The witch Drute had identified as Galen of House Baudelaire made an impatient sound before cutting across the clearing and heading up the pathway that led to the base camp. After a moment, other competitors followed him.

Bolveg swiveled back around, a look of relief on his face. “Surina makes an excellent suggestion.” He swept a gaze over me and the dragons. “My colleagues and I will discuss this situation tonight. You’ll have our ruling on the morrow. Friendly reminder that maiming or murdering a fellow contestant is punishable by decapitation. Good evening.” He nodded, then winked out of sight. On the platform, the rest of the demons followed suit.

Finn tucked his weapon away, the blade disappearing as if it never existed at all.

Inessa raised a perfectly arched red brow at him. “Best leave that dagger in your tent tomorrow, dragon.” In a blink, she was gone.

And I stood in the middle of the clearing with the dragons, Drute, and Brader. For a moment, no one spoke or moved. Then, more contestants started toward the pathway. The burly werewolf who’d spoken of his macros cast me a dark look as he passed.

“Thanks for wasting everyone’s night.”

I clenched my jaw. How was this my fault? It wasn’t. And now, I most likely had a target on my back. And the attention of two dragons who believed fate had awarded me to them like a prize in a claw machine. Worst of all, Bolveg and the other demons might decide to boot me from the Games. The elixir would be out of my grasp, and my pack would continue to suffer.

Brader opened his mouth.

“Save it,” I snapped. “I don’t want to speak to you. Or anyone.” I stalked toward the path. Drute quickly caught up to me, and he was a silent, steady presence at my side as I kept my chin high and tried to ignore the stares and judgmental whispers that followed us.

But as I continued up the path, I couldn’t ignore the weight of the dragons’ stares in the center of my back.