Wyvern's Mate (The Dragons of Incendium Book 1) Page 2

  Drakina hesitated.

  “What if she doesn’t do it?” Callida dared to ask. She always had to know the details.

  Their father flung out his arms and shifted shape, his dragon form filling the chamber. His minions flinched, cowering against the walls in anticipation of his wrath. “Then all will be lost!” he roared, sending a plume of fire at the ceiling. The architect looked worried. “Destiny will be denied, doom will befall us, and the once magnificent Kingdom of Incendium will crumble to dust!”

  “As long as the prospects aren’t too dire,” Drakina said, unable to deny herself the opportunity to provoke her father.

  He glared at her and exhaled a stream of smoke. A chef hastened forward, obviously hoping to calm the monarch by offering a gilded tray with some confection displayed upon it. “Would you care to sample the roast cervus from Sylvawyld, my lord?”

  Ouros turned upon the chef, who quivered on the spot, then the king’s nostrils flared. His gaze brightened. He bent with utmost delicacy and plucked the haunch from the platter, sniffing appreciatively. He devoured it in one bite and gave the chef a gleaming smile. “Excellent,” he purred. “Most excellent. You changed the spice blend. It’s much better.”

  “Thank you, Majesty.” The chef bowed and backed away from those impressive teeth. “I live to please you, Majesty.”

  The exchange had given Drakina time to think without being under the pressure of her father’s will. When he eyed her again, she had her compromise ready. “I won’t marry him,” she insisted and her father chuckled that he had won the encounter.

  He shifted shape, becoming the benign patriarch again. He was always so smug when he won. It made her want to bite something.

  Or someone.

  Preferably a crown prince from Regalia.

  “You don’t have to,” Ouros ceded amiably. “Just take his seed and conceive the boy.”

  “I can just take it?” Drakina asked with new hope. “Does it matter if he survives?”

  Her mother put a hand on her husband’s arm and stepped forward. “Of course, it does, my dear. You must seduce him and let him survive, but then you can abandon him. This is romance, after all.”

  Drakina’s suspicion rose. They were making this too easy. “Shouldn’t he be my official Consort, if he’s the father of the heir?”

  “He doesn’t need to know,” her father said, dismissing the very idea.

  “He’s Terran,” her mother whispered, which explained Ouros’ attitude.

  His prejudices were at work. If Destiny had twined Drakina’s path with a Terran, her father wouldn’t want a specimen of such an inferior species to have an official role in his court. For once, her father’s attitudes were a relief.

  “He’s a means to an end, no more than that. We cannot evade that he is the Carrier of the Seed, but there is no need to celebrate such a truth.”

  For once, Drakina felt that her father’s objectives and her own might dovetail nicely. Bearing one son and evading responsibility forever sounded like a good deal. She didn’t really want a Consort either.

  Ouros beckoned to his viceroy who turned one wall into a glowing display with a gesture. “Kraw? Could you tell Drakina more, please?”

  “With greatest pleasure, Majesty.” The viceroy bowed deeply to each of the royal family, which took sufficient time that Drakina found her toe tapping. Kraw must have caught a whiff of her impatience for he spoke more quickly.

  Those servants who survived a long tenure in a royal household of dragon shifters tended to be those who were alert to changes of mood in their lords and ladies.

  “This is the planet Earth.” The display showed a blue and green planet. Drakina knew little of the place beyond her father’s disdain for its occupants. At Kraw’s gesture, the view closed in on a land mass. Magnification revealed an open expanse that looked quite inviting. “And here is where you will find the Carrier, in a wilderness of sorts.”

  Ouros made a rumble of approval. “Good for courting,” he said, taking Ignita’s hand in his own. She smiled at him, as they clearly recalled their own courting days.

  “Is it warm?” Drakina asked, admiring the amount of room.

  “Seasonally so, Highness. You will find the climate similar to the plains of Aequor, particularly at this time of year. Moderate in the days compared to our hotter zones, and cool in the evenings. It is cold in winter, but you will have departed by then.”

  “How soon will that be?” Drakina was drawn closer out of her infernal curiosity.

  Kraw gestured to an astrologer who cleared his throat. “Currently, this hemisphere of Terra has passed the midpoint of its hottest season,” the astrologer began. Drakina remembered him as one inclined to be long-winded. “Of course, their solar days and hours are of different duration than ours, due to the relative size of their sun and the diameter of Terra’s orbit around that sun…”

  Kraw interrupted the lecture. “If you would be so kind as to consult your assistant, Highness, I have taken the liberty of loading it with time and language converters for Terra.”

  “Thank you, Kraw.” Drakina didn’t comment that her father must have been very certain he’d get his way. She lifted the square film and tapped in her query, the conversion instantaneous and satisfactory.

  “You will, of course, take an entourage to see to your comfort, and a troop of bodyguards,” Ouros began.

  “No,” Drakina said firmly. “I go alone or not at all.”

  A flutter passed through the court and the astrologers took a step back.

  Her father glared at her once more. “I will not see my oldest daughter imperiled…”

  “I am a dragon shifter, Father. I can take care of myself.”

  Their gazes locked in a battle of wills once more, then Kraw cleared his throat. “If I may be so bold, Majesty, there is wisdom in the princess’ suggestion. The occupants of this Earth are all of the standard biped form and size, so she will be able to ensure her own protection in her dragon form. Also, this planet is not sufficiently advanced to be shown any indication of life elsewhere in the galaxy, by interstellar law, so she would draw less attention alone.”

  Ouros harrumphed but conceded the point.

  Drakina began to feel a prickle of excitement. An adventure alone. A seduction on a distant planet. An assignment that would see her freed from the weight of her father’s claw. It couldn’t get any better.

  There had to be a catch.

  “And this is Troy,” Kraw announced with pride. “The Carrier of the Seed.”

  Drakina looked up with anticipation and barely managed to keep from grimacing.

  There was a moment of silence in the audience chamber.

  “Are you sure?” Splendea asked in a horrified whisper.

  “I’m not sure that genetic stock should be perpetuated,” whispered Percipia.

  “He might be your HeartKeeper,” Peri teased and they laughed as one.

  Drakina was already fighting her revulsion and wasn’t even in the Carrier’s presence yet. She studied the display, unable to explain why he was her destined mate. He must have been chosen to carry the seed for a reason, but she couldn’t discern what it was. He was a biped, as Kraw had indicated, with the usual pairs of appendages. She checked his proportions and knew they would couple readily enough. He was muscled and fit, not unappealing in that way, but his face was enough to make her wince.

  He had to be one of the ugliest creatures she’d ever seen, even for an inferior species. His brows were low and dark, his jaw was huge with a fierce underbite, and his eyes were small and glittering.

  “Ewww,” said Peri, perfectly expressing Drakina’s own reaction.

  “Don’t keep him, Drakina,” advised Flammara, the second youngest of the princesses. Drakina had no intention of doing so.

  Maybe his appearance would make it easier to just use him for her own purposes and discard him.

  She couldn’t care for someone who looked like that.

  She would have to
close her eyes for the union.

  If not the courtship.

  No, there would be no courtship. It would be a quick seduction.

  Very quick.

  “Your father said she doesn’t have to keep him,” their mother reminded them.

  Ouros lifted his hand in his most majestic manner, and the princesses almost groaned aloud at this sign that he would tell a story. “Kraw has discovered a tale told by Terrans of one Helen of Troy. He must be named for her.” Ouros beamed at his daughters. He loved stories from primitive cultures.

  “What was her story, Papa?” Peri asked, no doubt because someone was expected to do so.

  Ouros beamed at his youngest daughter. “Her beauty was such that when she was seized from her betrothed by his rival, a thousand ships were launched to retrieve her.”

  “I can see why we’re sending only one,” Drakina countered and her sisters giggled.

  “He looks as dumb as a rock,” Flammara said.

  “Well, he is Terran,” Peri reminded them. “They don’t even do space travel.”

  “No colonies at all,” Ouros confirmed with a shake of his head. “They haven’t settled their own moon and it’s quite close.”

  The astrologer provided a measurement that incited pity in all those present.

  “Quite backward, I’m afraid,” Ignita said with a flutter. “But you won’t have to stay long, dear. Just get the Seed.”

  “And don’t rouse any suspicion,” Kraw added.

  “Maybe this will be easy, Drakina,” said Thalina, the sister most inclined to be sympathetic. “Maybe you’ll be home again and pregnant in no time.”

  Maybe.

  Drakina considered the image of the Carrier and wondered whether she could do this feat for her kind.

  Then she saw the resolve in her father’s eye and knew that she had to succeed.

  How long could it take?

  “I’ll do it,” she said. Her father’s smile of satisfaction gave her a moment’s doubt, as if she didn’t quite have all the facts.

  But her father wouldn’t confess more than he had.

  More importantly, Drakina had given her word, and she’d keep it.

  To Terra, she would go, as soon as possible. The egg ripened within her and the time for conception was close.

  The sooner she embarked on the journey, the sooner it would be done.

  Chapter One

  Drakina teleported after her mate, impatient to have her quest completed. She’d done her research on the planet Terra and added more local languages to her interpretor. Kraw had only loaded Mandarin but Drakina had found more possibilities. She’d rather have too much information than too little.

  Kraw wouldn’t be the one facing trouble if Drakina arrived unprepared.

  The planet circled a distant sun, rotating as it did so, which resulted in a familiar suite of time divisions, which the Terrans called “day,” “night,” and “year.” The actual amount of time differed from Incendium, and Kraw’s choice of conversion engine for relative time was excellent. Even having been warned of the scientific backwardness, Drakina had been shocked by her research. It would not be unlike a visit to Sylvawyld, the planet in their system that the kings of Incendium chose to keep unspoiled, to better preserve the hunting.

  Drakina was further surprised that Terrans did not acknowledge the existence of shape shifters, although many of their cultures told stories of them. They called these myths and folk tales. It was most curious to tell stories of beings then deny their existence, if not delusional, but there was no accounting for regional differences. She simply had to accommodate them.

  Terrans also did not believe that dragons were real. There was a startling fact. In fact, it was a kind of a joke with them, for they wrote “Here Be Dragons” on their maps in the unknown and unexplored corners of the world. Their language was filled with references to dragons, although they denied the existence of such a superior culture. Drakina found this completely irrational.

  Her destined mate was Terran so clearly he could not be the Carrier because of his intellect.

  She already knew it wasn’t because of his appearance.

  That he should be the Carrier of the Seed was a puzzle. What genetic benefit would he bring to their union? Perhaps he was particularly robust.

  Perhaps she should not quibble with destiny and simply complete what had to be done with all haste. The prospect of being free of her father’s dictates was more than enough incentive.

  She used Kraw’s coordinates and her teleport dropped her into an open area outside a settlement. To any Terran observer, she would have suddenly appeared behind a cluster of rocks. Of course, there were no observers. She’d checked. Beside the rocks was a spiked being of the slower metabolic type that Terrans called “plants.” She greeted it using the galactic protocol but it didn’t reply.

  There was no sign, in fact, that it was aware of her or her greeting.

  Was it rude, shy, or stupid? There was no way to know.

  Drakina hoped her mate was a better communicator.

  She hoped she was home very soon.

  Drakina was in her human form, an obvious choice as a result of her research, and wore something called a “dress” with “sandals.” It was shocking to her to wear a garment that left her legs exposed below the knee, but evidently this kind of lewd display was considered normal by Terrans. Drakina would have preferred to have exposed her breasts, but evidently that would have drawn attention in this curious place. Only a mate should see the thighs of a Wyvern princess, unless she chose to shift to her dragon form.

  Drakina couldn’t let her discomfort affect her hunt. It certainly encouraged her to hurry and have the mating behind her. She felt bold and provocative, like one of the sirens of Incendium’s marketplace, and was glad her father couldn’t see her like this.

  Perhaps the Carrier would find the view enticing.

  Drakina inhaled deeply and caught the trace of the Carrier’s scent. Yes, she could smell the Seed within him. It almost beckoned to her, as if it knew its fate—as the Carrier might not.

  Drakina did not care about his views. She emerged from behind the rocks and strode toward the lights of a town. His scent emanated from there. Darkness was falling and she heard night creatures on all sides. A sound emitted from the settlement, a rhythmic sound with a steady beat. It wasn’t a style of music that was familiar to her, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it made her want to move in rhythm with it. The music became louder as she approached the town, and she heard laughter as well. Perhaps some festivity was being celebrated.

  Perhaps there would be food.

  There was nothing like a teleport to make Drakina hungry.

  Well, except sex. The princesses of Incendium were renowned for their appetites, after all.

  After her journey, Drakina was hungry enough to eat an entire cervus, if not two. The prospect of food and sex, not necessarily in that order, quickened her steps, and made her wish she could have just shifted and flown to town.

  But she could not challenge Terran assumptions. It would be irresponsible to do as much, and a violation of galactic code, on such a primitive planet as this. Sadly, restraint was not the strongest of Drakina’s talents.

  Surely she could keep a low profile long enough to seduce the Carrier.

  Drakina followed his scent, moving with such purpose that she did draw attention. Few residents of St. Anthony had ever seen a beautiful woman stride out of the desert in high heels, much less one charging toward the bar in the Grand Hotel. If Drakina had realized how many people were watching her with curiosity, she would not have cared.

  The Carrier was her target and the claiming of the Seed her goal.

  * * *

  There was a band playing in the bar at the Grand Hotel on Friday night and the place was comparatively busy. Troy was glad that he didn’t know anyone—they wouldn’t have recognized him, but he might have tripped up. The crowd was young, maybe even the children of the people he’d
gone to school with, and that simplified the challenge a lot.

  The lights were turned down and the music was loud. Locals crowded into the bar, buying drinks and greeting old friends. It seemed that many were celebrating the success of the recent meteor festival, which had been the biggest yet.

  Troy had bought some clothes at the emporium earlier in the day. He’d visited Old Man Wilcox and bought his beloved Harley back as if he were a stranger. To Old Man Wilcox’s credit, he hadn’t wanted to part with the bike and insisted the rightful owner might come back.

  His loyalty struck Troy in the heart.

  So did the care the older man had lavished on the bike.

  Finally, they struck a deal. Troy had pretended to ride out of town, but had circled back and parked the bike behind the hotel, then taken a room. It felt wrong to deceive the old man, but the truth wouldn’t have been believed.

  He wouldn’t have believed it, if he hadn’t lived it.

  The mood in the bar was familiar and welcoming, enough to make Troy relax just a little. He’d missed the society of others, especially in solitary confinement, and though he was wary of relaxing too much too soon, there was something beguiling about the familiarity of this place. He watched the townspeople enjoying themselves, oblivious to other matters in the universe.

  But then, that was how it should be, by galactic law.

  A part of him wished that he was still as innocent, and he felt resentment that he should have been snatched away, against his will, and his life changed forever. He’d been pretty much alone even before his arrest, given the jobs he’d been given.

  Troy wasn’t going to indulge in regrets, though. Not now. The band was in the middle of a popular song, the crowd on their feet, dancing and singing along when a woman opened the door to the bar.

  Drakina.

  She couldn’t have been anyone else.

  When Troy had first seen Drakina’s hologram, he’d been sure she was the most gorgeous woman in the galaxy. He’d assumed the hologram had been tricked up a bit, to make her look more beautiful than she was. The truth was that real life put any representation to shame. Not only was she beautiful, but she moved like a goddess. There was fire in her eyes that no representation could capture. The sight of her stole his breath away and sent a wave of astonishment through the bar.