Light Dragons 01 - Love in the Time of Dragons

they’d, you know, like us to go with them?”
    The second girl looked hesitant as she watched the ponytailed man. “I don’t know. Mine looks kind of intimidating, doesn’t he?”
    I agreed. He did look intimidating. He also looked sexy as hell. I wished I could indulge in a little illicit daydreaming about him, but I had enough on my plate without dwelling on the lamentable state of my personal life.
    My gaze slid to him again, and once more I was struck with a sense of the familiar. It was as if something inside of me recognized something inside of him—a foolish notion if ever I’d had one, and of late, I’d had nothing but foolish notions.
    To my surprise, the first man stumbled and came to a stop, turning full circle as he scanned the area. He hesitated when he faced us, and the first girl squealed and nudged her friend as she rose to her feet, blocking my view.
    “Look! They’ve seen us! Let’s go over to them. Come on, Dee!”
    Her friend was slower in getting up. “I don’t know that they’re looking at us, Sybil.”
    “Don’t be stupid,” the first girl said, grabbing her purse. “It’s as clear as day! Let’s go say hello.”
    The two women headed toward the men. I tried to watch them but my vision started to fog, as if I were suddenly enveloped in a cocoon of cotton wool. I clutched the back of the bench to keep from pitching forward, but it was no use. I fell.
    Pain burst to life in my head in waves of red that pounded and pulsed stronger and stronger until I thought it would explode from me.
    “Stop!” I yelled, and miraculously, it did.
    I opened my eyes and glared at the two men who faced each other over the altar of the cathedral, the echoes of their shouting disturbing the dust motes that danced in the thin sunlight streaming through the lovely stained-glass rose window. I turned to the man on my right. Slightly taller than me, of a thick, muscular stature, with golden brown hair and almost identically colored eyes, he reminded me of one of my father’s prized bulls. “Baltic has done nothing to harm me, nothing .”
    “He has sworn to destroy all silver dragons who do not submit to his obscene demands,” Constantine Norka said, glaring at Baltic. “Why would he bring you to me unless you were damaged?”
    I held up a hand to stop Baltic’s retort, which I knew would be loud and vicious. “He didn’t harm me because he is a man of honor. He swore to take me home, and he did, although”—I shifted my gaze to give him a reproachful look—“I meant my father’s keep, not to be delivered into the hands of dragons.”
    “You belong to my sept,” Constantine said, his hands fisted.
    “Your sept belongs to me!” Baltic snarled.
    “For the love of the saints, please don’t go through that again!” I said, rubbing my forehead. The remnants of a headache, caused by listening to the two wyverns circle each other snapping and snarling for the last hour, still lingered. “The fact is that he did as he said.”
    “Including spending the nights in your bed?” Constantine asked, his gaze tight on Baltic.
    I raised my eyebrows and considered whether I should respond with maidenly indignation, or a more worldly approach. I decided for indignation. “My maidenhead is intact, if that is what you are desirous of knowing. Baltic did not bed me.”
    “No? Then why do his men say he was in your cabin every night?”
    I thought of the weeklong journey from England to the southern coast of France. It was true Baltic had visited me each night—I had been unable to refuse him, and had, in fact, learned much about what pleased him, and what drove him to the point of losing control.
    “I was afraid of the journey,” I said truthfully. The sea was a foreign thing, and I did not trust or like it.
    The corners of Baltic’s mouth curved upward.
    “It’s true that when we were on the ship he came into my cabin at night, but it was to comfort me.”
    That also was true, although more of a half-truth. I would have to seek a confessor in my new home.
    Constantine made a noise of disbelief, but I raised my chin and said calmly, “I say again that my maidenhead is intact. If you insist on an examination, I will submit to one.”
    “No,” he said, never taking his eyes off Baltic, who was still smiling faintly, an amused look in his obsidian eyes, as glossy and shiny as polished stone. “I will accept what you say.”
    “Thank the heavens. And now, I would greatly appreciate it if