Dragon's Blood (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy #2)

Dareena and Alistair exchanged helpless glances as the maid whirled about and left the room. “I wonder if I should call her back?” Dareena muttered as the door slammed shut behind her. She was going to need some help dressing this morning, after all.

Alistair sighed. “I suppose I should have sent you back to your own room last night,” he said, perching on the edge of the bed. The muscles in his broad back flexed as he ran a hand through his shoulder-length blond hair.

“Nonsense.” Dareena wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her bare breasts against his back. His warm body felt so good against hers—she was tempted to pull him back under the covers with her and make love with him again. “You need me, Alistair. For whatever reason, touching me makes you feel better.”

“You’re damn right it does,” Alistair growled playfully, twisting around to catch Dareena’s mouth in a steamy kiss. She clung to him for a long moment, their tongues tangling, as heat gradually built in her veins. If she reached forward right now, Dareena knew she would find his cock, hard and ready for her already. Her pussy clenched with need at the thought of lowering herself onto him, of riding him until they both saw stars.

“You should go back to your rooms,” Alistair said, reluctantly pulling away. “I imagine the reason that maid came to wake us is because the king wishes to see us today, and the last thing we need is for her to come back and see us in flagrante delicto.”

Dareena laughed and slid off the bed. “No, I imagine she would have a conniption.” Giving Alistair one last, longing look, she opened the adjoining door and returned to her own room.

After donning a robe, Dareena spent the next twenty minutes unpacking her trunk. She’d picked out the dress she was going to wear to see the king—a gown of deep red velvet that went beautifully with her complexion—and was laying it out on the bed when a different maid returned with a breakfast tray. Dareena ignored the speculative look in the elven woman’s eyes, merely thanking her for the food and asking her to draw water for the bath. She imagined the prudish maid from before had already told the other servants about her “adulterous” activities, and word was spreading like wildfire throughout the castle.

Dareena finished her food just as the maid returned with a bucket of steaming hot water and a wash cloth. Shrugging off her robe, Dareena let the maid bathe and dress her in the gown and matching slippers, then style her hair. The woman did an excellent job, her deft fingers weaving it into braids and piling them atop her head in an elaborate crown.

“You look lovely, Miss,” she said when she was done.

“Lady,” Dareena corrected automatically. “Miss” Dareena Sellis had died the day she’d drunk from the dragon goblet, though she hadn’t known it at the time. She was the Dragon’s Gift now, carrying a dragon baby in her womb. She was far more than a mere “Miss.”

“Lady,” the maid repeated with a nod. A faint smile curved her lips, and Dareena wondered if the news about her and Alistair didn’t bother this new maid. Perhaps not all elves were prudes after all. “I am Mari. I’ve been assigned to serve you for the remainder of your stay.”

A knock came at the door before Dareena could respond, and the maid opened it to a guard on the other side. “The king commands your presence in the throne room,” he said stiffly. Alistair stood behind him, flanked by a second guard. He already looked pale again, Dareena noted with some concern. How long would the boost she’d given him last under such duress?

“Of course.” Dareena rose gracefully from her chair. The guard stood aside to let her pass, and she went to Alistair immediately. The moment she slipped her hand in his, she felt the air in the hall shift, and the guards gave them both stern glances. But Alistair’s cold hand began to warm in hers, and she only held it tighter, refusing to let go. The elves could look down on them all they wanted—if skin-to-skin contact helped Alistair fight the effects of the spell, she would cling to him with her dying breath if necessary.

Thankfully, the guards made no attempt to separate them. As they were herded through the halls toward the audience chamber, they got more than a few strange looks from various nobles and residents living in the castle. Dareena ignored them and looked around curiously. The castle was fashioned entirely from white stone, but there were various stained-glass windows set high in the walls that made the stone bloom with wonderful colors and shapes. Tapestries depicting various scenes in history added further color, and statues of important elven figures flanked entrances and stairwells.

The castle steward waited for them outside the throne room, dressed in a deep green and gold tunic—the royal colors, Dareena had gathered. His face was inscrutable as he opened the doors to the throne room, and Dareena’s breath caught as she beheld the splendor within.

Like the rest of the palace, the room was built of stone, but here, the pillars were carved into trees so lifelike Dareena would have thought them real if not for the color. The trunks stretched up and up and up, until the branches curved over the arched ceiling, twigs and leaves tangling on either side as they crossed midway. Between the pillars, steps led to a second landing where members of the court could come and watch the proceedings, and below, on either side of the aisle, were azure pools with shimmering orange fish swimming beneath the clear water. There were a number of elven nobles gathered on the landing, watching with expressions ranging from curiosity to boredom to outright disdain. Amongst them was Lady Valenhall, and flanking her were two men Dareena judged to be her son and husband, though age was hard to tell with elves.

The room quieted as Dareena and Alistair arrived, the silence broken only by their footsteps rasping against the stone floors as they approached the dais. Like the gallery, the throne itself was on the second landing, and behind it, carved into the wall, was a tree even more gigantic and stunning than the pillars. Unlike the stone forest lining the room, this one was in full color. The greens and browns seemed so alive, Dareena wondered if the tree was real.

“My king.” The steward bowed once they’d reached the steps leading to the dais. “Presenting Dareena Sellis, the Dragon’s Gift, and Prince Alistair, of Dragonfell.”