Dragon Queen

Book Three:

Dragon Bound

Emily Ryan-Davis

Culver City, CA

Dragon Queen Book Three: Dragon Bound

For information on the cover illustration and design, contact secondmediauk@aol.com.

Editor: Marci Baun

ISBN:

978-1-935013-13-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief
passages for review purposes.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblence to any person, living or dead, any
place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are
created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Warning

This book contains graphic sexual material and is not meant to be read by any person
under the age of 18.

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Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter One

“I’ve never seen anybody breathe fire.”

Cora ran her tongue around the inside of her lips, lapping up the residual

spice of fire on her breath. She should try that again once the inky shadow
undulating across the ceiling returned to her. Once she escaped the handcuffs
that bound her to the hotel bed.

My dragon. A tiny hard seed in her stomach, the pearl she’d swallowed mere

hours ago, pulsed like a throbbing muscle tic. Responded to her thought. She
repeated the possession, aloud this time, and the shadow stopped dancing. A tiny
worry wormed into the back of her mind. Did Ii want to be her dragon? He didn’t
want to belong to Greg—had, as she recalled, wanted free of Greg so badly that he
wrenched himself free. Violently. She shuddered at the memory of Greg’s

desperation, his scary panic that became more forceful as Ii grew more
discontent.

Her jailor-lover spoke again. “She manifests too strongly and doesn’t know

how to be the one in charge. The dragon has to come out.” The door that stood
between them dampened the strength of his voice and enhanced the worry in his
words.

Her own anxiety caught flame, the spark fed by Salim’s muffled conversation.

She had to learn how to be the boss, or she would find herself just like Greg—
flung around like a doll, unable to maintain a handle on her own emotions,
expressions, actions…even after the dragon moved on. Ii wouldn’t remain tied to
a host who didn’t know what to do. He’d proven that with Greg, had sought her

out once he wearied of the alchemist’s weaknesses. He searched for her—she was
convinced of it. Some vague, accidental “mating call” didn’t bring Ii all by itself.
Da’ar Es Saleem, yes—he was strong, content with his host’s abilities, in a
satisfied state that allowed him to respond to her without becoming a crazed
thing.

He doesn’t need me.
The realization stung, pinched her heart. It meant she wasn’t necessary to

Salim either.

Cora yearned for Salim’s touch, a reassuring stroke of his hand, an inclusion

into his plans, but he had decided she was too dangerous to consult. Excluded her
from her own future. She swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut, bit her bruised,

split lip until it throbbed. He’d turned her into a case. An assignment. She
wouldn’t call for him no matter how much she missed him.

She tuned out the exchange and focused on Ii, on bringing him close. The

dragon had fled earlier, exhaled like so much fire, and not returned. Salim had
warded the room to keep the dragon from running off with her, but Ii clung to the

ceiling as if Salim had also placed an invisible shield over the bed. Distance
wouldn’t do. She needed the dragon close in order to establish a real connection.
Then she could prove her strength so Ii wouldn’t ultimately turn her inside out
and leave her rabid like Greg. Until she could figure out how to be the one on top,
however, she had to come up with a backup plan. Ii responded to her

sexually…could she use that?

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Speaking with her body, she flattened her abdomen and arched her back.

Muscles in her torso creaked a stiff, aching protest. She ignored the reminder of
her encounter with the alchemist and brought her knees up. Her feet inched apart

on the mattress. A blanket covered her thighs, but it drooped into the vee she’d
made by spreading her legs. With her arms stretched above her head, her wrists
bound to the headboard, she had few other alternatives for striking a welcoming
pose. Open arms or open thighs didn’t matter, though. Ii wanted to be inside the
heart of her more than in her arms. He’d made that clear from the very

beginning, but Salim’s dragon had never allowed Ii to come closer than a rude
nuzzle to the crotch before catching the weaker dragon up short and hauling him
off.

Da’ar Es Saleem’s response was a possessive male thing, a refusal to share. He

probably also believed it was a protective move—one that shielded her from the
violence Ii displayed over and over again. She appreciated the gesture, but she

saw more in Ii than evil. His sullen bully visage hid a guarded vulnerability. The
white dragon wanted more than sex…but that would draw him close, distract him
until she learned more.

On the other side of the door, Salim barked, “I can’t teach her to control it!”
“Don’t worry,” she whispered as she lifted her hips from the bed and offered

herself to Ii. “I know how, now.”

She even forgave Salim…a little. He was right, he couldn’t teach her. Not this.
The dragon pushed away from the ceiling and descended upon the bed,

closing in until she could see his tiny light particles. Multifaceted eyes formed
from the cloud of faint light, which feathered her cheeks and throat. Warmed her.

Cora held her breath, swallowed a surprised sigh as the ache that plagued her
face, tenderness left from her battle with Greg, eased. Could Ii heal? Brow knit in
concentration, she focused on his path down her torso.

The light filtered down between her breasts along the zipper of her sweatshirt.

Her oblique muscles warmed and relaxed, and, this time, she couldn’t contain the
sigh. Ii’s essence hit her like magic and soaked away the hurt.

His exploration moved into her hair. Tickled her ears. Blotted out the line of

light beneath the door, the sound of Salim’s footfalls on the carpet in the
adjoining room. Ii was seducing her. Sequestering her in sensory isolation. She
curled her toes against the mattress as fear hedged close. Her helplessness, Ii’s
proximity, abruptly flashed her back to the night she’d first summoned the

dangerous creature. How had she forgotten that? Allowed it to fade into muted
shades of gray in the back of her mind? The temporary confidence in her ability
to command the dragon, the arrogance of believing she had any control over the
situation, deflated with a whoosh of breath.

Her fear mounted as she skimmed back through memory. Each nuzzle at her

knees, staking claim. Ii’s sullen behavior the night she first instructed the dragons
to show themselves to her. His presence in the bathroom, coming out of the
steam. What would have happened if Salim had allowed her to bring the dragons
into their passion?

Ii settled between her thighs, answering the question. She drew a shallow

breath, instinctively tightening even her most intimate muscles, employing every

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

cell in her body to hold him at bay. “Stop,” she demanded. It came as a whisper,
feeble and hitched by terror.

Ii paused and changed. His flittering light particles came together, solidified,

shaped themselves like a man. Cora cringed and braced herself for the backlash
of his shift as pearly, golden limbs formed from the light. He crouched over her,
head bowed and face pillowed between her breasts. His weight pressed her down,
solid and real. And the shock she anticipated never came. No vertigo. No nausea.
No headache. Only a flutter deep inside as her body recognized the message in his

masculine shape.

“You wanted this,” he said aloud. “You offered it.” It was the first time she’d

heard his voice outside her head, speaking in her own language. The velvet
timbre shot straight to her toes. Instinctively, she recognized it as his true voice.
He wasn’t a filter for Greg Cho anymore. The dragon was all hers.

Throat tight, she stuttered, “I d-didn’t—c-can’t…stop.”

He lifted his head and pinned her with his glittering stare. “Either you are

strong and you take me, or you are weak and I take you.”

Cora blinked at him. “Are you…advising me?”
Wordlessly, he rose up on his knees and fanned his claw-tipped hands across

her abdomen. Heat flared from his palms, softening and warming her from the

inside. Probing. Searching. Creating a nest for himself. An invisible thread slid
between his talons and the pearl pulsing in her stomach. He tugged the thread.
Her back bowed slightly, maneuvered by the slender tendril of light. She gasped
and clutched the sheets with her toes.

“You change your mind, back and forth,” he said as he lifted his elbow and

pulled her fully off the bed. “I can manipulate you just like this because you do
not make a choice and hold to it.” Ii lowered his hand and dropped her to the
mattress.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, throat tight.
Ii cocked his head and slid his palm up the center of her chest until his thumb

curved against her bottom lip. “Because I want to stay.”

“Get me out of these.” She rattled the handcuffs against the headboard. “Salim

said you could help me get free.”

“He also said my strength would run away from you.” He traced the outline of

her mouth with the sharp tip of his claw. “Do you promise to keep it in check?”

She didn’t trust herself to answer. Ii pressed his knuckle against the corner of

her mouth. Her lips parted of their own accord, and she inhaled his scent onto
her tongue. Citrus, fresh linen and cinnamon-spicy potpourri—the fragrances of
the room—slowed under the stronger notes of his darker perfume, a pheromone
bouquet of desire and surrender.

Could she keep a promise like that? A vow to maintain the upper hand? Heat

flushed her cheeks, and a remembered rush of power surged through her veins.
She’d enjoyed mastering Salim. Binding his hands to her bed, blindfolding him,
riding him until the satisfaction of claiming had left her sated and sleepy.

Ii’s eyes flashed. “Answer,” he said. His weight shifted forward, and his

arousal pressed her stomach, a reminder that he did not exist beyond some
barrier, that he had as much access to her thoughts as she had.

Insecurity sat heavy on her chest and made breathing difficult.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

She’d acquired a small success in drawing Ii down, out. Did he believe she

could maintain a firm hand? Suspicion pulled her away from her recent victory.

“You’re going to test me,” she accused. “All the time. On purpose. Always

making sure I don’t falter. But what if I do? Why set me up like this? You could
run now. Run away with me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t really want to stay, do you? You’re…biding.

Waiting for something.”

Ii held his counsel, neither confirming nor denying her theory. His

anticipation, impatience, stretched thin between them. He still wanted her
acceptance out loud—and she had to give it. She didn’t have much choice. The
devil she knew paced in the other room and plotted to tear Ii from her by force. At
least Ii played his conditions up front and told her what she had to do to stay on
top. She had a chance with the dragon, and none at all with the man

Cora mustered as much surety as she could find within herself and nodded. “I

can take you,” she decided.

Ii’s eyes, already bright and alert, glittered a deeper, warmer gold. He gave her

a feral smile and encircled her throat with his big hand, holding her gently
despite the sharpness of his claws. “Are you ready?”

She gulped. His fingers flexed, rode the rise and fall of her throat, caressed the

soft flesh beneath her jaw as if he savored the movement. On the other side of the
door, Salim moved. He didn’t make a sound, but she knew he was coming. Cora
turned her face away from the light glowing beneath the hotel suite door and
blew out a parched breath. Sweat dampened the back of her neck, and anxiety
roiled in her stomach, but she whispered, “Hurry.”

The dragon settled into the vee between her legs and stretched out atop her.

His breath skimmed her chin. The amber facets of his eyes contorted the
parameters of her world, distorted shapes and sizes until her head swam.
Sensation shrank to a collection of minute pinpoints: the hard edge of steel
digging against the base of her thumb, an uncomfortably wrinkled knot of percale
sticking to her sweaty neck, and the fivefold prick of Ii’s claws clutching her knee.

He pushed her leg to the side and ground his pelvis closer.

Heat seared through the bedclothes. Cora squirmed and gasped, “Wait!”
Ii growled. The ominous sound rumbled in her ribs, in her back teeth. A dull

glow had gleamed along the lines of his muscles; as he pushed his face into her
throat the low illumination flared into a blinding nimbus. Fear clogged her

throat. She shrank into the mattress and pulled hard on the handcuffs, but she
couldn’t escape the hot press of Ii’s joining. This time, she wasn’t free to crawl out
of the circle. The dragon struck, burned through her skin, sent her up in an agony
of fire that must’ve come straight from Hell. A scream seized her vocal chords
and pulled the tendons in her neck to a painful tension.

The edges of her vision blurred black and sparkled red and orange. Her body

convulsed as the soft organs nestled in her abdomen shifted and parted, made
room for the swollen pearl that opened itself up to Ii. Pain dragged her into a
null-sensation state, a certain scary numbness. Her arms fell to the bed like lead
weights, so heavy she couldn’t hold her hands up to her face, to verify that
somehow she’d gotten free—of steel, not of dragon. Ii slid into her veins and

kissed every nerve point she possessed as if to say I’m still here.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Light sliced across the bed. Salim stood in the doorway, motionless and silent.

Cora flexed her fingers, invited sensation back into her hands and wrists. She had
the dragon. More, she had control. Her senses strained and flexed—tested their

newfound strength. She blew a puff of hair from her eyes. Inside her chest, a little
flame sparked and died. Her breath tasted of fire.

“You were wrong.” She cocked her head and smiled, shamelessly smug. “He

didn’t run away with me at all.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself involved with,” Salim said

levelly. His forearms tensed and betrayed the tightness of his grip on the
doorjamb. The red shadow of a dragon loomed behind him.

She slowly sat and rubbed her wrists. Salim’s gaze flicked to the cuffs that

dangled from the headboard. His stare came back to her eyes harder than it had
left.

“I can handle it.” She couldn’t keep the satisfied tone from her voice. Her

assuredness was cocky, perhaps even arrogant, but she couldn’t doubt. Not after
Ii warned her not to falter. For her own benefit as much as his, she added, “I’m
stronger than you think.”

His jaw clenched. “This doesn’t change anything. You’re still not going

anywhere.”

“Why? Because of a ward? What will it do if I cross? You wouldn’t risk killing

me. Not that way.” She looked past Salim to the dragon-shape that backed him.
The scarlet silhouette seethed and shimmered, bulged against the barrier that
Salim raised across the door. “You’ve been fighting him, haven’t you? You’re
holding him out.”

“He would fight for you.” He canted his head. Light hit the lenses of his

glasses just so, obscuring his eyes and creating a mirror effect. Her reflection
danced across the coated glass. It was her light that brightened his eyes. Her
dragon glow. “He’d have to fight you to do it, though.”

“And it’s taking nearly everything you have to stay on top,” she realized out

loud. His struggle bolstered her confidence. “Funny, since you’re always so in

control.”

“Not always,” he said tightly. “Or have you forgotten?”
Was that a dig at her impulsive dominatrix play? A confession of the tenuous

nature of his hold when she saddled him with both dragons? She narrowed her
eyes, not about to ask him to clarify. Whatever he referred to, he probably

intended to distract her. Soften her. Bring her back into his hands, where he
would be able to reach deep and wrench Ii from her spirit.

Cora eased over the edge of the bed and pushed aside blankets. She left Salim

to guard the door and moved in front of the big dresser mirror. A golden nimbus
outlined her body and simmered behind her eyes. The halo projected light at the

mirror, which threw the glow back into the room.

Distracted by the brightness, she held up her hands. Each fingertip sparked

and threw off thin beams of light. “You don’t…gleam…like this.”

“I have the upper hand. You don’t, despite your claims otherwise. When Da’ar

Es Saleem shows himself, he does so because I gave permission. Your dragon,
however…”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

She glanced at him sidelong. “He came to me without you. Twice. Once when I

summoned. Another time he came to me without me calling. Without you
commanding. Did I ever tell you that?”

Salim flinched. A small part of her, a part that appreciated his offer to be her

safety net, his efforts to protect her from Greg and the strangeness of this dragon
life she hadn’t wanted. That part curled up in shame. He had never said
something to hurt her with as much deliberation as she’d uttered her jab. Cora
ducked her head and examined her glowing hands, trying not to soften. She had

no room for tender feelings, not if she favored survival. Salim never hid his
beliefs regarding spirit care—an entire city of people feared him for his
conviction.

Still, she found herself saying, “I’m important to you. I know you’re doing this

because I am. But you can’t rank your priorities above mine. Not at the detriment
of what’s important to me.”

“What’s important to you?” he asked softly.
She shrugged defensively, not quite ready for a deep evaluation of wants and

desires. “Right now? Living. And that means I have to get away from you, doesn’t
it?”

His breath hissed sharply, and he cursed. She jerked her gaze toward him just

in time to see Da’ar Es Saleem surge. The crimson shadow shoved Salim through
the door and boiled across the threshold. He stumbled and caught himself on the
edge of the bed, but he’d lost his hold on his dragon. A red haze fell over
everything, marking and obscuring all but shapes. Cora covered her mouth and
shrank against the edge of the dresser. Inside her, Ii swelled.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter Two

She doubled over to her knees. Her stomach seethed as if Ii had blown a puff

of acid into it. Da’ar Es Saleem came over her, pressed against the light aura that
seeped through her cells. Cora struggled to throw up a protective barrier, a
mental shield against the onslaught of angry, possessive dragon, but Ii bucked at
her restraints from the inside.

Hurting and frustrated by the position they put her in, all three of them

snapping and squabbling like children, she snarled, “Stop. Now.”

You’re not fighting him off!
Ii even sounded like a child, petulant and peevish as he clawed at her mental

limits. A rush of revelation hit: he was battling her hold.

She had him in a hold. Somehow, an instinct to protect and defend herself

overcame her lack of skill. Cora opened her eyes wide and sat back on her heels,
stared at her hands. Ii’s white glow was there, but a rose shade lay across it like a
layer of cherry frosting on a yellow cake. Ii couldn’t get out. Da’ar Es Saleem
couldn’t get in.

Even though the pair of dragons hissed and spat, they couldn’t gain any

ground or engage one another—or her—in a real struggle because she had them.

She lifted her head, searching for Salim, and found him pushing up from the
tangle of blankets on the bed. Da’ar Es Saleem must have thrown off his hold with
enough force to hurl the man into the room, and here she had him caught literally
in her hands.

“I’ve got them.” She grinned and pulled herself off the floor. “Look!” Cora

flung her arms out to the sides and wiggled her fingers. Red and white ribbons of
light flowed away from the tips and waved around her when she twirled in a
circle, laughing. “You didn’t think I could do it, but look at them!”

She spun circles until she lost her balance and bounced breathlessly on the

bed. Neither Ii nor Da’ar Es Saleem could get her. She had them both tied up

tight like silk scarves around her wrists, just as Alyssa had contained them in the
very beginning. The only difference was now the bands of dragon light didn’t
move on their own, twining around her legs and clinging like needy, possessive
pets; instead, she moved them however she liked, directed them in a
choreography that would put even the top high school color guard to shame.

Salim’s face appeared in her line of sight, his head directly above hers. He

crawled over her, caged her in. Cora curled her fists around the dragons and
pulled her hands close to her heart. The giddy feeling of power continued to
bubble in her chest, her head, and a wave of dizziness struck as Salim came so
close her eyes crossed and vision blurred.

“What are you going to do now?” He caught her wrists and pulled. The dragon

lights winked out.

Cora tensed but his strength won out, and he unfolded her arms, spreading

them flat on the bed like butterfly wings under glass. She succumbed to an
instinctive urge to protect the dragons and clenched her hands so hard her
knuckles burned. “Get off me,” she panted.

“Answer me.” His hard shape settled over her and forced its way between her

thighs. Her knees just hit the edge of the bed and left her lower legs hanging over,

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

but her feet didn’t touch the ground. She had nothing to push against, no way to
protest his weight. No explanation for the unexpected spark that set her pulse
thumping. A low growl echoed somewhere in the back of her mind. The sound

belonged to a jealous dragon, persistent as it objected to Salim’s proximity. She
ignored it because Salim’s glasses slid low on his straight nose, and his eyes
flashed in the dark, close and full of…something…and suddenly he ranked much,
much higher on the danger scale than either dragon. He could reclaim control of
his aspect so easily—it’s what he did, reclaiming spirits. She needed a way to bind

them to her irrevocably, to want her over Salim…and a way to hide her own want.
If Salim, or either dragon, knew she wanted him as much as she did, she would
lose herself.

“What are you going to do with them, Cora? You’re letting the one heal you.”

He bit her lip, hard, unexpectedly; despite Ii’s mending warmth the spot still
sported a degree of tenderness that made her yelp. “How are you going to use the

other?”

Cora jerked her chin aside and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth so she

could nurse the new wound. She couldn’t answer him. She didn’t know what to
do next. Desire for Salim welled so high, coiled so tight, that she was afraid to
open her mouth. His body pressed hers, squeezed—if she spoke, surrender would

pop right out.

Salim’s beard stubble rasped her cheek, sending pricks of sensation through

her nervous system. “You were all set to walk out of here, to blow through my
wards and take on the world. Will you let them make you stronger? Faster? Are
you going after Greg? Running away to hide? How do you plan to feed them? You

know it’s a shared job,” he murmured, breath fanning her ear. “Who are you
going to find to share it with?”

Throat tight to keep errant words locked up, she managed, “Diane told me

about a man.”

He stilled. His fingers contracted and squeezed the bones of her wrists

together until she gasped. “You’re hurting me.”

“What man?” He grabbed both her wrists in one of his hands and forced her

face up. Her breath caught as he moved between her legs and gave away the
physical proof of his arousal. “What man, Cora? Give me a name.”

Focus on his face, not his body. She willed her nerves to numb and deaden, to

pretend his muscles didn’t fit so intimately against her softness. Pain hollowed

his eyes.

Jealousy. Desperation. Knowledge of impending loss, and powerlessness. Her

concentration slipped. Love words almost broke through the careful jail she’d
built.

The dragons leapt into the crack splintering down the line of her weakness.

Da’ar Es Saleem hummed confusion in her ears, and Ii strained for release. He
flooded her senses with a blast of possessive emotion that rivaled the scorching
demand in Salim’s grip. For an instant, she regretted the short sentence; she
hadn’t meant to throw it down as a sexual challenge. As the atmosphere filled
with masculine claim, however, her regret ebbed away. A wickedness stirred low
in her body where Salim’s groin nuzzled against her softness. Every thread of her

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

usual self cautioned against deliberate provocation, but she didn’t feel usual
anymore. Feminine authority vibrated in the marrow of her bones.

Hot from the rush of power, she smiled and whispered, “No.”

His eyes flashed. “This isn’t a game.”
“No?” She flexed against his hold on her wrists, arched her lower back and

deliberately ground against the bulge in his pants. “You’re playing very
competitive for something that’s not a game. Withholding information. Refusing
team work, refusing to share what you know.”

He growled. “I’m not—”
“It’s almost like you’re holding out for a prize,” she continued, cutting him off.

“Or like there’s something you don’t want me to find. What is it, Salim? You won’t
help me learn because you want to keep me for yourself? Afraid you’ll have to
share my body with somebody else? With something else?”

“That’s the point of this, isn’t it?” Salim released her hands. He backed

himself up and swung his thigh across hers until he knelt astride her hips. He
traced the strip of bare skin between her drawstring waistband and her
sweatshirt. “The change in you came right after I refused to turn our duet into a
foursome. If I’d realized how badly you wanted it, we could have avoided all this.”

The knotted tie gave way quickly, and he pulled the elastic down low enough

that her breath caught. Doubt cartwheeled through her, followed immediately by
determination not to falter. “It’s not sex, Salim. It’s completion.” She rose up on
her elbows. “I threw out a mating call, remember? They’re both already mine, but
it hasn’t been completed yet. This is something I’m entitled to. It belongs to me.
To my family. And I’m going to finish taking it, whether you’re willing to be part

of it or not. I know you’re not the only one. I found another shaman just like you.”

“There isn’t another one just like me, baby.” He backed off the bed. “Precisely

because I don’t teach.”

Cora stared after him. Salim turned away and unearthed a canvas laundry bag

from the empty hotel closet. She straightened and retied her drawstring, angry
with herself for stalling with talk. She hadn’t meant to stall. She’d meant to goad

him into action, into helping her complete the bond with Ii and Da’ar Es Saleem,
into letting her prove to herself and the dragons that she was in charge, in control
of the situation and riding in the pilot’s seat.

She’d missed her chance, though. His arousal may have been an instinct-

reaction, more than real emotional investment, and while she could manipulate

his body, he’d already proven that he wouldn’t be manipulated on any other level.
Cora bit her lip, embarrassed by her own failure and, as much as she didn’t want
to admit it mattered, his rejection of her advances.

“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Cleaning up. We’re going back to my house.” He threw a damp, blood-

browned washcloth into the bag and followed it with the glass she’d sipped from
while taking the pain pill Diana gave her.

“You’re removing our DNA?”
“You want it hanging around for anybody to come across? What if Greg comes

back here? He already has his hooks in your brain.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Cora flinched. The visual image made her temples throb. She didn’t want a

reminder of the hypnosis, the suggestion that probably continued to reside
somewhere in her subconscious.

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” The lie wrenched at her heart. More

than anything she wanted to undo what she’d experienced with the dragons and
find Salim on different terms. Perhaps if she found herself without him…

“You’re welcome to try to leave. The wards won’t hurt you. They will, however,

contain you. I don’t mess around, Cora. Not when the welfare of a spirit is at

stake.”

“You don’t have any qualms about screwing around with my welfare,” she said

bitterly. She turned away from him and scanned the room for her handbag. Tears
blurred her vision, but she finally found it behind a vase of flowers. She snatched
it up and yanked at the zipper, which snagged on the bag’s lining. Cora swore and
struck out at the vase, shouting, “Damn this! I wish I’d never met you!”

Salim moved behind her—his shape jerked, a dark reflection in the mirror—

and he hurled the laundry bag at the door. She gasped and spun against the
bureau as the lumpy projectile darted past her. It ricocheted off the doorframe
and bounced out into the sitting room. The heavy drinking glass inside thunked
on the carpet like a muffled shot. The airspace that filled the doorway popped,

sizzled, and threw a fast, firecracker flash that burned itself out as soon as it
caught fire. Cora whirled toward Salim in time to see the windows and the French
doors blink bright firelight before they, too, fell dark. The drapes rippled, then
hung flat.

Pressure swelled and grew in the ensuing silence. It unfolded from deep

within and glowed white in her mind’s eye. She swayed and caught herself on the
edge of the dresser, but even though she worked to keep herself upright, rooted in
place, the door tugged her as if it were a magnet and she made entirely of metal.
No. Not the door.

It’s unlocked now. Ii.
You won’t be able to come back. Da’ar Es Saleem.

She imagined a pair of internal earmuffs and pretended they covered up the

sound passages that allowed the dragons their voices inside her head. Still, the
magnetic promise of an open doorway beckoned. She had to concentrate to hold
her place; had to widen her stance to keep from falling.

“You’re a selfish child, Cora.” The words sliced across the room. Her chin

snapped up, and she narrowed her eyes to focus on his face. The grim line of his
mouth kept hers shut as he paced across the room and back again. He pivoted
and jabbed his finger at her. “Self-absorbed and willful. I stood still and picked up
the burden that you walked away from, and I’ve done everything I can allow
myself to do ever since you came back. Your role is a woman’s role, and it’s yours.

I cannot shape it. I will not influence it. I don’t know how.”

The admission burst from his lips, forceful as an expletive. She stared,

stunned. “How can you not know how? You do this every day—you live with it—”

“I was born with it,” he interrupted. “I never learned. I don’t know how to

teach it. I can’t teach you to be me! I don’t want you to be me—would never shape
you out of the person you are. I told you to seek guidance with your family. You

need them—Miranda, Diane, both. They’re women. They’re your blood, as close

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

to your spirit as anyone else can ever be. They can help you, have knowledge and
instincts I don’t have. I don’t know why you keep coming back to me for this.”

Cora gaped, all out of words. He turned away from her, braced his palms on

the top of the bureau. His shoulders jerked with the harsh, angry sound of his
breathing. Hurt for herself—wounded pride, astonishment that he regarded her
as little better than a spoiled brat—warred with compassion. His whole body
trembled from the force he’d thrust into his confession, from the effort of holding
up the weight of—

Failure. He failed you.
“Shut up,” she whispered. “I didn’t ask you.”
To Salim, she said, “I have to go. If you’ve reached the limit of help you can

give me, you have to let me go.”

He flung his arm out and pointed her at the door with a mocking flourish. “It’s

open. You want out, walk through it. But you’ll do it by yourself.”

Hollow inside, she stumbled a step toward the door. Something snapped,

separated, stretched apart like the gooey filling of a hot grilled cheese and the
balance in her body—in her mental grounding—pulled apart with it.

“You’re taking him back?” she gasped, shooting a fast look over her shoulder.

D’ar es Saleem’s essence spanned the room, a scarlet ribbon connecting their

triangle. Salim stood with his arms wide and his head thrown back, his fingers
curled and working as if they were reeling in a catch.

The rubber band rebound of separation threw her forward, through the door

and into the sitting room. The brightness of the room stung her eyes; inside, the
brightness of Ii blinded her. He threw his limbs out and rammed against the soft,

weakened links of her control, and the abrupt, unexpected loss of Da’ar Es
Saleem left her stunned, unable to repair the holes. Bereft and disoriented,
terrified Salim would take Ii as soon as he had the other dragon secured, she
bolted into the corridor and ran for the stairs.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter Three

She ran right out to the street before realizing her feet were bare. As soon as

the chill of the concrete settled into her soles, so did the finality of her exit. She
couldn’t go back to Salim. She couldn’t even go back into the hotel; the bell hop
stood guard over the lobby doors as if she were a dirty street girl threatening to
take a john into the ladies’ powder room for a $20 blow job.

“Got shoes for sale, lady,” called a man’s voice.

Cora started and stared at the middle-aged man down the sidewalk. He

babysat a shoe store on wheels; a quick glance showed knockoff Uggs and
genuine-looking Nikes, designer pumps, sandals and ballet slippers. Her toes
curled, flexed, and propelled her forward.

“How much for the beach shoes?”

“You want flip flops? Ain’t it cold for that?” He popped a tag off a pair of

thongs decorated with pink rhinestones. “Seventy-five.”

“I’ll give you thirty.”
“No way.”
She opened her mouth to reluctantly raise her offer, but her stomach chose

that moment to chew and churn. It cried hunger pangs loud enough that the shoe

vendor heard.

“You better save your money and buy a hotdog or something,” he said. “Here.

Put these on your feet.” He threw a tiny, balled up wad of plastic at her. A second
wave of hunger clutched her insides and stole her breath. The ball bounced off
her shoulder as she bent double, clutching her stomach. He wheeled his cart

away.

I’m hungry. A plaintive whine. Eat something, then I’ll help you. A demand.

The voice made her shudder; it got into her veins and the shafts of every single
hair on her head. Even her fingernails, for a moment, resonated with the strength
of Ii’s presence. Somehow he had chewed through her internal earplugs. His

attempt to bargain made her angry enough to cram him into an imaginary cage. A
soundproofed one.

She shook out the tightly wrapped plastic and pulled it apart into two pieces.

Shopping bags. Generous of the guy. Irritated with her situation, barefoot and
struggling with a creature who believed himself to be the boss, she stuffed the
bags in her purse and turned to the street where taxi toppers glowed neon as they

sped by.

Cora raised her arm to hail a cab as she dialed Alyssa’s number on her cell

phone. An urgent desire to hear her mother’s voice surged up hard, and homesick
tears stung her eyes. She cursed them away. She couldn’t call Miranda right now,
and Diane…Cora swallowed hard. She couldn’t contact her, either, not after she’d

allowed Ii to attack her sister.

I thought you wanted to try the fire again, Ii murmured. The scent of

burning hair and sudden suffocating heat overwhelmed her. She nearly dropped
the phone, but at that moment a woman’s voice squeaked faintly at the other end
of the connection.

“Alyssa. I need your help,” she announced. Ii worked his way back into her

stomach and nipped at her insides. Damn—her little mental block was a flimsy

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

trick, but it should’ve lasted longer than that. She bit her lip and worked up a
little saliva to swallow, something to sate the dragon until she could do what she
had to do.

Alyssa didn’t respond. Cold sweat erupted between Cora’s shoulder blades.

She rushed to fill the silence. “I know you probably don’t want to hear from me
after what I did to Diane.”

“I haven’t talked to her recently,” the other woman answered, caution

vibrating in each word. “I’m not sure how I can help.”

“Paul Beesom. Diane told me he’s a shaman.”
I told you I would help you. You don’t need him.
Ii’s uncharacteristic panic bled into her emotional receptors and spiked her

heart rate. Cora closed her eyes to quell a brief wave of lightheadedness. What
was the dragon’s problem? His agitation distracted her, made her miss the first
taxi that drew close. She cursed beneath her breath.

“You can’t find him,” Alyssa said, echoing Ii.
A second-chance cab skimmed up to the curb. Cora threw herself haphazardly

into the backseat. “Why not? I’m in a taxi now. What’s his address?”

“You just can’t drive up to Beesom’s front door unannounced! Jesus, Cora.

You really don’t have any idea how this works, do you?”

“Then explain it. Listen, the driver’s looking at me like he’s about to throw me

out on my ass. I don’t have any shoes. I need your help.”

Alyssa sighed. “Come here.”

* * * *

Cora had never visited Alyssa’s apartment. She’d seen the petite blonde in

social settings only, except for the night she summoned Ii and Da’ar Es Saleem
and Diane enlisted her assistance in binding the dragons. Alyssa existed in her
mind almost entirely under the classification “Diane’s girlfriend”. Beyond that,
whatever she was had never mattered. Alyssa was just another witch.

Just another witch with a simple wooden crucifix above her door, a plaster of

praying hands on the end table beside her futon, and a big family Bible on the
coffee table. Cora swallowed. Her chest felt naked; she couldn’t remember the
last time she’d worn the gold cross she had purchased for herself with the first
paycheck she’d earned after moving away from home. It must have been

sometime before she met Greg—left behind in her jewelry box so she could avoid
Miranda’s disapproving looks during the holiday visit. Once she spiraled into the
dragon entanglement, she’d felt hypocritical every time she reached for the
pendant. How could she wear a sign of faith while practicing a lifestyle that had
no right to the Christian banner?

“Diane and I aren’t seeing each other anymore,” Alyssa announced as she

locked the door. “You should know that up front.”

Cora turned back to her. The praying hands haunted her peripheral vision

despite her best interests to put them behind her. “Why aren’t you and Diane…?”

Alyssa shrugged. “She wants a dragon.”
“I know.” That had been the first rift between her and Diane; she’d only sealed

their divided relationship by allowing Ii to attack the other woman.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

You wanted to taste fire.
Look, I need quiet space.
What you need is guidance. You’re floundering again.

Cora glowered at the dragon’s unwelcome reprimand.
“I’m not willing to share her. I told her that, but...” Alyssa squinted. “You’re

glowing.”

Damn. If Alyssa could see the dragon’s aura, then her upper hand had slipped.

His internal advisory shook her concentration. There had to be a way to shut him

up permanently.

“You weren’t the last time I saw you.” Alyssa’s words pulled her back. “It was

an external thing, then. I suppose you’ve got one now?”

“It’s complicated, but yeah, I have one.” Cora frowned and regarded the other

woman speculatively. “Do you know how to establish barriers?”

“That’s what I did with the scarves. Confined the spirits to a specific object,

which limited their range of motion.”

Cora nodded. “Can you do that again, but limit the range of communication?

And then I have to see Paul Beesom. You must know how to reach him—have
some connection.”

Ii coiled up tight, his agitation resurfacing. You don’t need him.

“The dragon talks to you?” Alyssa frowned and picked through the leaves of

the plant. She pinched one brown oval from its stem. “I’m not sure if I can help
you. I’m not sure if I want to help you. For all I care, this whole dragon business
can jump off a cliff.”

“It’s this voice—his voice, in my head and responding back to my thoughts. I’d

kill for some quiet. Some mental privacy.” A hunger pang hit so hard it made her
eyes water. She raised her voice to talk over the insistent growl of her stomach. “I
know you can help, just like you did before.”

Alyssa bent to toss the dead leaf into the pot of soil. “I can’t do anything about

that, Cora. It would involve tying up a creature’s mind. I have codes, and I believe
in every being’s right to exist on a mental plane.”

Salim’s ethical obligation to protect spirits from abusive or irresponsible

witches had forced her to leave or suffer the exorcism. Alyssa’s reason for refusal
hit too close to Salim’s determination to pull the dragon out of her. Cora snatched
at a tissue so hard the cardboard box rattled on the table. “Is there some humane
society for spirits that I don’t know about?” she asked snidely.

The other woman glanced up. “What?”
“Forget it.” She blotted her cheeks and crumpled the tissue in her fist. “What

about Beesom?”

Alyssa averted her face. “Ask your mother.”
Cora threw her hands in the air. “I am so sick of this—of all of you with your

‘ask someone else’. There aren’t any textbooks! There aren’t any listings under
‘witch’ in the phone book! How am I supposed to figure out how to be whatever it
is I should be if all I get is ‘figure it out yourself’ or ‘find somebody else’? What
happened to some sense of community, for God’s sake?”

Alyssa sighed and straightened. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Why don’t

you sit down? I’ll make some hot chocolate or something.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“I don’t want to sit. I want to know what the hell I have to do to get this under

control before Salim finds out where I am and comes after me.”

“I don’t know. It’s a bloodline matter,” Alyssa evaded.

“That’s not good enough. These dragons are spirits. I know for a fact that

people who don’t have my last name have worked with spirits. I don’t give a
damn about lore or tradition. I want a—I don’t know. A dragon psychologist or
something. Anything. Diane said Beesom can help me. Ma won’t give a letter of
introduction or whatever social nicety is required to get a meeting with him. So

I’ll skip the scheduling. But I have to know where he is. You can’t tell me you
don’t know. You do spirit work. Binding. You have to know something.”

“If Miranda wouldn’t give you an in, she probably has a good reason.” Alyssa

bit her lip. “He’s a…hoarder, Cora. He could be dangerous to you, if you want to
keep that spirit you’ve contracted.”

“A hoarder? Like Salim is ‘The Collector’?” She scooped out air quotes and

rolled her eyes. “Very original.”

“Names are frequently not labels that we would choose for ourselves,” Alyssa

replied.

The serene rhythm of her response prodded Cora’s growing hysteria to a

breaking point. Tears stung her eyes and, to her horror, spilled over before she

could grab hold of her errant emotions.

“I don’t know what else to do!” She swiped at her cheeks and sank onto the

futon, angry and despairing at once. “What am I supposed to do? He’s going to
exorcise it if I don’t figure it out. Do you have any idea what that means?”

“Witches don’t survive the removal of their familiars,” Alyssa said, so quiet

Cora barely heard over her hitching, agitated breath. Alyssa’s comprehension, her
acknowledgement of the severity of the problem, ripped away Cora’s self-control.

“This m-m-magic doesn’t come from inside me,” she cried. “It was never there

before. It’s something new, and I don’t know whom it belongs to, so how am I
supposed to know how to use it? D-Diane has her ‘goddess’ but I don’t, and don’t
know how to get one. I don’t even b-believe in goddesses. Inner or otherwise.”

Alyssa moved the Bible aside and sat on the edge of the coffee table. “What do

you believe?”

The question brought Cora’s tears up short; the unraveling sweater of hysteria

stopped hard as Alyssa threw a knot into the weave. Cora blinked through the
blur and stared at the other woman, who calmly crossed her legs and raised an

eyebrow, asking, “Well?”

Cora cast a furtive glance at the praying hands statuette and bit her lip, which

tasted of salt and distress. “I believe in God.”

“Why do you say it like that? Quiet and wary, like you’re worried somebody’s

going to skewer you on a stake?”

“Because I’m not supposed to believe in God.”
Alyssa arched her eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you were supposed to do

anything.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Cora mumbled. She looked away and claimed a

fresh tissue. Discussions of faith had never filled her with a sense of comfort, and
she long ago resigned herself to the fact she was a spiritual outcast in her family.

The physical indications of Alyssa’s deviation from what Cora had come to regard

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

as “the standard pagan faith of witches” didn’t even ease the awkwardness. She’d
lived too long as the minority among her familial and social groupings and
become too accustomed to maintaining a bland, neutral religious stance.

Long silence passed between them. Cora finally glanced up to find Alyssa

staring at her with hard eyes and an incredulous set to her mouth.

Defensive, Cora shrugged. “What?”
Alyssa blew out a breath. “You didn’t seriously just say you don’t have time for

belief.”

“Yes, I did. Salim will come after me. I don’t have much time. None at all for

analyzing my hang-ups.” Beside her, her purse vibrated. Cora’s gaze jerked down
to the bag. “That’s my cell phone.” She leaned away from it, as if distance would
make the summons undo itself. The vibration stopped, but resumed a moment
later.

“You should answer it.”

“It’s him.”
“How do you know that? It could be anybody. It could be Miranda, and your

shot at convincing her to take you to Beesom.” Alyssa reached over and
transferred the handbag from her futon to Cora’s lap. “At least check the caller
ID.”

Cora shoved it from her knees. “Ma doesn’t communicate that way. Not as a

first measure.” She scanned Alyssa’s living room for mirrors. The closest anything
came to reflective was a dull, shallow silver oval frame etched with a scene that
depicted Mary Magdalene washing Jesus’s feet. Miranda would’ve had a blurry
view, but enough of an inlet to watch. No, the caller wasn’t her mother. The chilly

dread that rinsed through her veins told her it was either Salim or, perhaps not
worse, Greg Cho. She couldn’t face either of them. Not yet.

She swallowed and met Alyssa’s gaze. “I know you think you’re doing me a

favor. Protecting me. But you’re not. I need to get to Beesom. Please tell me how.”

Alyssa pursed her lips. “Fine. He lives in New London.”
“Connecticut?” Home. She’d just been there, a mere handful of days ago.

Two? Time mixed together, but it must’ve been only two days since she’d packed
a bag and left her house behind. Cora cradled her head in her hands and stared at
the seams of the hardwood floor beneath her feet. She couldn’t go back to
Connecticut. Not yet. Greg had been close to her there, close enough to infiltrate
her dreams, to pull the trigger he’d planted with his hypnotism. The nighttime

calls had stopped since she discovered the proof of them in her telephone bill, but
she didn’t have a guarantee that they would remain quiet. What if the only barrier
between Greg and herself had been Salim? As soon as Salim left their hotel room,
Greg had found her...

…and planted a living tracking device in her stomach.

She had to get it out. Oh, God. Salim was right.
Don’t you believe in anybody? Ii roared. His frustration hammered her

temples and made her eyes vibrate in their sockets. The floor’s seams blurred and
wiggled. How can you expect me to believe in you?

She blinked to realign her vision. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“Cora?” Alarm edged Alyssa’s voice. She shifted forward, and her small, bare

feet landed on the squirming lines of the floor right before she pushed against
Cora’s shoulders. “Lay down before you fall on your face.”

“I can’t.” She sucked a deep breath and shored herself against the blade of

paranoia. “There’s not much time. I can drive to New London. It’s just a couple
hours.”

“Absolutely not. I’m calling Miranda, and you’re staying here until she

comes.”

Shit. “Wait!” She could not deal with her mother right now. Cora scrubbed her

face and straightened. The room wobbled at the edges, but Alyssa didn’t deviate
from her upright stance. Good. Her vision was more or less back to normal.

“Just wait. I’m fine. I think I should eat something. Probably low blood sugar.

A little orange juice and…I don’t know. Shrimp fried rice.”

“Chinese?” Alyssa shook her head. “This is crazy, you know.”

“I know, but it’s something I have to do by myself. That’s part of it, the

proving.” She dug through her purse and handed her wallet over. “Will you call it
in? I’m going to rest my eyes, if that’s alright.”

“I’ll bring the OJ while we wait,” Alyssa sighed.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter Four

Alyssa placed the delivery call and left Cora alone. Cora drew a soft, lacy throw

from the back of the futon and draped it over her head and chest. The flimsy
shelter gave her more of a sense of privacy than she expected it would, and the
lavender scent woven into the stitches eased her tension. Even Ii allowed her a
few moments’ peace by curling up on the outer rim of her awareness to seethe
quietly.

The knock at the door surprised her; it came too fast. Ii jerked awake the same

instant she did. She fumbled the blanket off onto the floor and stood. Dreamless
sleep—how long had it been since she’d experienced the luxury?

“Alyssa? Food’s here.” She bit her lip and stared at the door. Ii stretched. The

delivery man knocked a second time. Had Alyssa fallen asleep too? Knock

number three.

Cora cursed beneath her breath and drew the door open to the end of its

security chain. She peeked around the edge of the door. The sesame aroma of
sautéed string beans snuck into the apartment. Her stomach rumbled pleasure
and anticipation…and soured. Miranda shifted into view. Cora slammed the door
shut. Alyssa tricked her!

Miranda’s exasperated sigh penetrated the door. “Will you let me in?” she

called.

“Why are you here?” She rested her forehead against the wood. Ii sat alert and

ready, interested in every word exchanged.

“Believe it or not, you and Diane are my primary concerns. She’s being taken

care of right now. You’re not. Open the door.” She rapped on the panel. “Your
dinner is getting cold.”

“Some things shouldn’t be handled alone.” Alyssa reached past her, freed the

security chain, and spun the deadbolt. “This is one of those things.”

“How is she supposed to help?” Cora hissed.

Alyssa rolled her eyes and pulled the door open. “Have some faith in

experience.”

Cora backed off and turned away, arms folded across her chest. Ii perched at

the perimeters of her awareness, alert but unobtrusive. The dragon’s neutrality
irritated her, but she stomped down on the annoyance. She wasn’t stupid enough
to deliberately pick a fight with him. Besides, calm was good. Calm meant she

wouldn’t allow Miranda to get the best of her.

“I’ll take that,” Alyssa said. The rustle of plastic bags receded into the kitchen.
Cora glanced sidelong at her mother, who stood near the door and carefully

unwrapped the blue silk scarf she wore tied around her hair. “Is Diane alright?”

Miranda folded the scarf into a square and tucked it away. “She’ll be fine. Her

scalp is only burned in a few patches. She’s been prescribed burn ointment and
mild pain medication.”

“Her hair?”
“Will grow back.” Miranda shrugged out of her coat and sat on the futon. “Sit

here with me.”

“I don’t really have anything to say.” Her stomach rumbled a response to the

sesame and cabbage fragrance of fried rice that came from the kitchen.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“I have plenty. Sit down,” she ordered.
“Christ,” Cora muttered beneath her breath. Miranda’s eyebrow climbed at

the epithet. She ignored her mother’s displeasure and dropped into the chair

opposite the futon. “Fine. There. What are you doing here?”

“Alyssa called me.”
“I know that. But why did you have to actually come here? You could have

called.”

“Why waste my minutes leaving messages you’re not going to check?”

“I don’t have time for family drama right now, Ma.”
“I don’t have time for my daughters to behave like know-it-all brats, either,

but here you are. Here we are.”

“What do you mean, ‘know-it-all’? I’ve asked for guidance.”
“You’ve asked questions that are irrelevant and have not confided the full

circumstances of your situation,” Miranda said, exasperated. “Even though you

obtained more details along the way, you’ve kept them to yourself. You never told
me that the mating call was manipulated!”

“I found out late. What does the how have to do with anything now, though?”
“How has everything to do with it. I thought you called two of the dragons

naturally!”

“Sorry to disappoint, Ma,” she said bitterly. “I’m not extraordinarily talented

after all.”

“Why do you assume that everything is leading to a judgment, Coraline?

Never mind.” She waved her hands, brushing the question away. “Don’t answer
that. You can enumerate my parental failings another day.”

Alyssa stole into the room and deposited a pair of yellow enameled rice bowls

on the coffee table. She also left a porcelain teapot and a pair of cups, then made
herself scarce. Cora glowered into her rice. What difference did it make whether
she’d called dragons on her own, or she was maneuvered into summoning them?
The end result was still the same: possession of a pair of dragons she didn’t know
how to handle. No, correction: one dragon. Salim maintained solid claim of Da’ar

Es Saleem, despite her taunts to the contrary.

Across the short space, Miranda pushed a bean sprout around her bowl. Cora

cleared her throat. “So what’s the big deal with a falsified call?”

Her mother balanced her chopsticks across the top of the bowl. “Only one of

them is truly yours. The other belongs to—with—someone else.” She fingered the

hem of her skirt and glanced away. “With another Lune.”

Cora choked on a grain of rice. “One of them is Diane’s?” Lurid images of

tangled limbs and long dark hair, her sister’s straight locks and Salim’s springy
ringlets, pulsed behind her eyes.

In the other room, the television volume lowered. Cora glanced over her

shoulder, but the bedroom door was closed. Jealousy and possessiveness tangled
in her stomach, renewing her sympathy for Alyssa’s situation. Alyssa loved a
woman who longed for something else, something that she couldn’t provide.

Miranda shook her head. “Perhaps, but not necessarily. We have cousins—

sisters. Distantly related, and I’m sure some whose names I don’t know. The
original sisterhood…” She shrugged. “Families divide, especially families that

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

aren’t tied by blood. Some have probably lived well into middle ages—older—
without finding their dragons.”

Watching her mother closely, Cora added, “And some found, then lost, theirs.”

The older woman studied the edge of Alyssa’s coffee table. Her cheeks were

eggshell-white; her hands shook. She folded them together, cleared her throat.
“It’s difficult to hold onto everything you acquire in an entire lifetime. Things get
misplaced.”

“Stolen.”

“And stolen,” Miranda said tightly.
What kind of person hoarded— “That’s why you won’t let me go to Beesom,

isn’t it? He’s a trapper, and you’re worried he’ll grab mine away from me.”

“Life isn’t the same without your dragon, Coraline.”
“Right. I know. Witches die when their familiars are snatched away.” Another

reaffirmation she couldn’t return to Salim—but… “Ma, you’re not dead.”

“I think it’s a different matter for Lunes, but only where the dragon aspects

are concerned. They’re stronger—older—than your average totem. They can
survive alone, but they thrive as one of three points.”

“You didn’t tell me anything about this,” Cora accused.
“I did so. Fairytales—”

“Those are stories, Ma.”
“Stories are where you learn, Coraline. Diane knew—once your dragon came.

The stories suddenly clicked. That’s how it works—you get stories, and when the
time is right, they make sense.”

Cora ground her teeth, squashing annoyance before it escalated. “People learn

differently, Ma. The world doesn’t teach little girls to believe in stories anymore.”

“I realize that now, and I’m sorry that I did it wrong,” Miranda said. She

hunched her shoulders defensively. “I can’t change it now, though.”

Cora blew out a sigh. “So it’s possible Salim will never find the woman who

completes his triangle. That there are dragons unclaimed, Lunes who have no
idea what they are.” Her stomach calmed marginally. Better to think of him with

someone else, perhaps continents away, than with her sister, present at every
family gathering. That was the selfish part of her. The more altruistic presence
hidden away, sympathetic to dragon needs, regretted that he might remain
unfulfilled forever. She couldn’t even think of the women experiencing the same
upset that disrupted her life—confusion, fear, helplessness. She rubbed her eyes,

shoulders bowing under the grim possibility.

“Or that he’s already found her, but she doesn’t know it,” Miranda hedged.

She reclaimed her bowl and stirred the rice around with her chopsticks. “But you
have a dragon of your own now. No man involved.”

Her neutral tone made Cora’s eyebrows arch. Miranda never did “neutral”.

“Yeah. What about it?”

“It’s a curious acquisition, is all.”
“Curious.”
“Mmm-hm.” She scooped rice to her lips and somehow managed to avoid

dropping a single grain. “Interesting. Unique. A puzzle.”

“Your fascination is fascinating, Ma, but I don’t have the patience for games. I

thought we just agreed that games are bad. Why is it so ‘curious’?”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“Well. It’s merely that dragons don’t belong with women.”
Cora snorted. “You’re not really revising this now, are you? You’ve already put

down the baseline of Lunes and dragon mates and blah blah blah. You can’t turn

around and say that’s all wrong.”

“You misunderstand. The mediating dragon lord is a necessity, Cora. He

filters through the raw power—protects you from the aspect’s hunger. Transmits
your bond back to the spirit element.”

“So he’s a dragon condom.”

Miranda flinched but Cora didn’t care. She’d grown tired of everybody laying

out the whys and wherefores in delicate words and genteel phrasings. The craving
for information gnawed at the edges of her frayed nerves. What did Miranda
mean, that dragons didn’t belong with women? She couldn’t mean that it was
impossible that a dragon bonded directly with a woman; her connection with Ii
was proof to the contrary. Besides, she had made strides toward control in the

short time since Ii began talking to her like a partner instead of prey to be
intimidated and tormented.

“Do you want something else to eat?” Miranda asked.
Cora glanced up and met her mother’s eyes, her queer expression. “Why are

you looking at me like that?”

“Because you’ve emptied your bowl and are chewing on your chopsticks.”
Startled, she looked down. The bowl had been nearly full moments ago…and

teeth marks marred the wood of her utensils. She flushed and stood. “I was
thinking,” she muttered as she turned away.

“Were you by any chance thinking about telling me how you came by this

dragon of yours?” Miranda called after her.

Cora stuffed a steamed dumpling into her mouth. Way back, Ii rumbled

approval. She swallowed the first dumpling three chews into it and crammed
another to sate his demands. The aspect’s hunger. She frowned out the window
as she chewed. How much would she have to consume to keep the dragon fed?
She didn’t recall Salim downing massive quantities of food. He hadn’t eaten at all,

that she could remember. Even when he brought room service to her in the
Jacuzzi, he’d offered bits of fruit to her and not partaken himself. The hunger
couldn’t belong solely to the dragon if Salim didn’t demonstrate the same
overwhelming need to eat that she experienced. Miranda must be wrong.

“Which dragon came to you first?” The question came from close behind;

she’d moved from the futon. Cora shuddered. Ii first, attacking her in Diane’s
circle, and then Da’ar Es Saleem. The red dragon came second. Despite her
connection with man and dragon, they weren’t for her at all.

Cora turned to find Miranda inches away, beside Alyssa’s refrigerator. “Mine

did,” she answered. “Why?”

“I don’t believe you have the right one.” Miranda peered at her. “You’re

glowing.”

Had Ii slipped out? Cora half-turned away. “Be quiet so I can focus for a

minute.”

“Did someone implant it?” Her mother pressed. “Or did it merge naturally?”
“Does it matter?”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“How always matters, but not as much as why. Haven’t you wondered why

someone would want to position it with you?” Miranda’s handbag chimed. She
left the kitchen to catch her phone.

Cora took advantage of the moment to throw a spring roll at Ii’s appetite

before following her mother. “Have you?” she asked.

“The easiest answer is somebody wants to manipulate you.”
“You’re projecting your experience onto me.”
Miranda’s mouth tightened. “This is not about me.”

“No?”
“Salim sent a text message,” she said.
“I don’t care. Don’t tell him where I am.”
“He wants me to let you know that he has Greg Cho.”
“What? How?”
Miranda shrugged. “He didn’t explain. Text message typing isn’t conducive to

lengthy discussion. You should call him.”

“No. It’s probably a trap. He wants to exorcise the dragon from me.”
“You mean he wants to rescue you from a parasite?” she asked archly.
“How can you say that? He needs me.”
“What is it offering you in return?”

“He healed my face.” She touched the previously bruised skin at the corner of

her mouth and rolled her tongue. No discomfort from the bite that had left her
bleeding.

“But what has it offered you? Healing is a functional act—an injured body is of

no use to a parasite.” Miranda narrowed her eyes. “He was the delivery boy,

wasn’t he? Greg. He brought the dragon to you.”

“So?”
“So he probably has a boss…and Salim is a man who will get answers.”
She was less interested in knowing the identity of Greg’s mastermind than in

getting him to release her from the hypnosis. He’d already refused to do that, and
she didn’t know of a way to force him short of torture. She didn’t want to watch

Salim torture anybody. He had to retain a small shred of humanity for the sake of
her mental well-being.

Cora bit her lip. “If I go, will you come with me? Keep him away from me?”
“You’re my daughter. It’s my job to protect you.”
“I don’t want to be alone with him.”

Miranda tsked. “I know better than that.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter Five

Cora hid behind Miranda and Alyssa as Salim ushered them into his foyer.

“This way,” he said, not looking at her.
Her chest tightened. While she didn’t want to deal with his full-on attention,

with the past of their relationship, she did miss the heat of his gaze. Irrational.
Salim was a danger to her. An enemy at worst. At best, he couldn’t be anything
except a once-upon-a-time. He and his dragon belonged to somebody else who

wouldn’t be complete without him.

She belonged with Ii, as much as she’d like to change her situation, as much as

she’d like to back up and re-evaluate, reposition her decisions. Cora followed at
the rear of the progression, behind her mother. Ii strained forward, far more
eager than she to see Greg’s face again.

Salim led them through his kitchen, clean and shiny with stainless steel

fixtures and maroon counter tops. He paused at a door Cora didn’t recall seeing
upon her few visits and palmed a crooked key. “I’ve taken him down to the
basement. The stairs are narrow. Be careful going down.”

Miranda tucked her gloves into her handbag, prim as a Victorian lady out for a

morning call. “What should we expect?” she asked.

Salim glanced at Cora for the first time since they’d arrived. He made fleeting

eye contact, long enough to sizzle, before he answered Miranda. “You saw her
after his attack.”

Miranda’s eyes sparkled with interest. She murmured, “Good man,” and said,

louder, “I believe we’re all adult enough to continue.”

Cora ignored her mother’s pointed see-what-you’re-missing glance. If she

could work something out with him, some way to keep her heart and trust open,
she would. Miranda’s theory that Lunes survived spirit separation wasn’t one that
she wanted to test. Life was too high a price to pay for a man. Even for this one.

She sighed, blowing away her yearnings. Salim unlocked the door; wild

imaginings flitted through her mind’s eye and replaced her ifs. She hadn’t seen
the full extent of her battered features after Greg broke into the hotel room. She’d
only known the injuries by feeling them. She followed the parade down into the
basement, wrapped up in uneasy silence. Would Greg resemble a piece of
tenderized meat more than he resembled a man? Could she handle that if he did,
knowing that it might be an approximation of how her own features had been

rearranged at his hands? She shivered in the decreased temperature of the
basement and watched her feet on the stairs so she wouldn’t catch an accidental
glimpse of Greg before she reconciled herself to the potential of Salim’s revenge.

Halfway down, she stopped. “I don’t want to see him.” Or the physical

evidence of Salim’s revenge on her behalf.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Miranda said over her shoulder. She paused at the foot

of the stairs, a naked yellow bulb dangling from a chain above her head, and
squinted at Cora. “He’s probably tied up. This is your opportunity to kick him in
the balls.”

“I don’t want to do that.” She tightened her fingers around the banister. “I’m

going to wait upstairs.”

“Don’t you have questions you want to ask?”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“He’s not going to give me any answers.” Especially not the answer that she

wanted, which would rid her of the timebomb ticking somewhere in her psyche.
She hadn’t experienced any residual effects of Greg’s hypnosis recently, but she

sensed it remained in place. The closer she got to him, the higher the risk that he
would pull the trigger. Who knew how it would affect her now that she had Ii?

“Well, I have questions.” Miranda drew her back up so straight Cora would

have believed a steel rod had taken the place of her spine. Her mother took on the
demeanor of a vengeful giant stuffed into a petite middle-aged woman’s body.

Salim and Alyssa flanked her like a pair of guardians.

Confident that she had no reason to worry about Greg harming Miranda, she

retreated to the kitchen and filled a glass with water from the tap. Voices filtered
up from the basement. She stepped into the living room to move out of range of
hearing, but everywhere she went, murmurs from below followed. They hummed
through the ventilation ducts’ iron-work covers and chased her up to the second

floor. Salim’s gallery.

Fresh, damp night air slid through open windows and muted the pungent,

oddly comforting, smell of oil paints and turpentine. Any other time, the odor
would have wrinkled her nose. Tonight, however, the impersonality of it soothed
her agitation, neutralized her olfactory senses, and brought them back to middle.

No cellar smells, no dark Salim cologne, nothing but the paint. Open cans of it,
colors dribbling and drying at the rims, sat on a stained sheet near a work in
progress. Cora passed the paper-wrapped stacks of finished paintings Salim had
leaned against the wall. Fewer than a dozen pieces faced outward. Their oils
probably had not yet set.

She pulled an empty crate up in front of an unpainted canvas and sat to study

it. Pencil lines curved and feathered the round shapes of tangled limbs framed by
a textured serpentine cord. No, not a cord. A tail. She cocked her head and
glanced up sidelong at the drawing, placing it in different perspective.

A floorboard creaked behind her. Cora straightened but didn’t turn. The new

tension that wove its way through the gallery told her it was Salim before he

spoke.

“It’s a memory,” he said. Closer than she expected.
Her shoulder blades hunched together. “Is it safe for Alyssa and my mother to

be down there alone?”

“I posted security.”

She closed her eyes and reached toward him with her fledgling awareness of

the dragon aspects. He had none…and for that matter, Ii had slipped away as
well. She frowned, alarmed. How had she not noticed? Had she really mistaken
an absence for lack of anything to say? She flung her feelers farther and located
both dragons in the lower regions of the townhouse. Neither harbored malicious

intent that she could detect.

“And what about me? Am I safe up here, alone…with you?”
“Depends upon your definition of safe.”
“You know what I mean.”
“They’re all memories,” he evaded.
“Yours?” She squinted at the sketch. Even though the lines were faint and

noncommittal, they couldn’t be mistaken for anything but an erotic encounter.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Her abdomen tightened, on edge over the idea that this was a memory of him
with another woman.

“Da’ar Es Saleem’s. Some from his time with me. Some from previous

lifetimes.” He stood close enough that his shadow darkened her folded hands.

“This one?”
“It’s a very early memory to the best of my knowledge. You can’t see details in

the sketch, but the scene unfolds in an ornately decorated room. Period art and
smoky stained glass windows suggest several centuries past, before flawlessly

transparent window panes became standard.”

His neutral tone set her on edge. Either he felt nothing at all and had no

agenda, or he saw a need to hide both. Both possibilities bothered her;
intellectually, she was resigned to separation from him. Her emotions, however—
and her body—weren’t. Reluctance to let go prompted her to keep him talking.
Near. She drew a deep breath and asked, “Does he give the memories to you or do

you go looking for them?”

His approach made the floor creak. “They expel themselves. I imagine it’s a

process similar to shedding waste.”

Cora concentrated on breathing through her uneasy awareness of him.
“Nothing more than a bodily function?” she asked. “I thought the paintings

were some kind of therapeutic expression.”

“Depends on the situation. When I had the white dragon, it was more like

that. Healing. Draining cranial pressure before complete shutdown set in.”

Since he brought it up, Cora shifted and looked up at him. “Do you still intend

to take Ii from me?”

His gaze mapped the curves and angles of her face, touch-intense even though

he didn’t even curl a finger. In the low light, reflections didn’t interfere with the
lenses of his glasses. She had to meet the intensity of his eyes without a buffer,
and the irises were dark with emotion. “I tried to reach you. You’re not answering
your phone.”

“I didn’t want you to reach me. I told you, you have to—”

“I don’t want to let you go,” he interrupted.
Raw emotion translated to heat, which punched her in the stomach. Cora

hunched over to protect her vulnerable heart from the way he did not mean that.
Love and desire weren’t part of what Salim wanted now that she was a job for him
to complete.

“What if I tell you I believe another option might present itself?” he asked. His

hand fell to her shoulder, a heat she couldn’t escape.

“What does that mean?”
“Cho set out with a goal. An assignment. To press the dragon upon you. He

sheltered your dragon for a time, himself, and removing it to pass it on to you

didn’t affect him adversely.”

Cora huffed disbelief. “Except for making him a raving lunatic.”
“I don’t believe the aspect implantation and removal are at the root of his

mental state. He’s a man who has always wanted power, but has never been able
to acquire it naturally.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

She bit her lip. If Ii wasn’t “naturally occurring” in Greg, maybe he wasn’t

meant to be a natural part of her either. Had Ii been misplaced with Greg, only to
be misplaced with her as well? “Did he tell you who’s behind this?”

“No. I have a suspicion, and confidence that Miranda and Alyssa will convince

him to give up a name.”

“Why would somebody do this? Screw with my life—rob some other person—

the right one for Ii—of completion? It’s not like I asked for it.”

“I don’t know. And I can’t let you go anywhere on your own until we find out

who and why. I want to protect you and keep you safe.”

“I know,” she said, irritated by his persistence. “For the sake of the dragon.

Too precious to risk.”

He caressed the hollow at the edge of her collarbone. Cora drew her shoulders

toward her ears, but that only dislodged his palm to her back. She was on the
verge of telling him to stop touching her, got as far as his name, before he cut her

off.

“When I ran after you and Cho came out of the stairwell to follow you,” he said

roughly, “I stopped giving a damn about the dragon.”

Salim’s confession knocked the breath from her lungs. Hope replaced oxygen.

“Why did you follow me up here?” she choked, unable to look at him.

She needed to buy some time, stall, figure out his game. Did he truly mean

that she was important now? Or was it an act to lull her into complacency? A trick
to get close and draw out the dragon?

He wasn’t a novice at his job, had left the training stage who knew how long

ago. He must have dealt with cases more hostile, more dangerous, than she.

Surely he didn’t need trickery to grab the spirit, if he were set upon that course.
He’d had her unconscious, tied up, vulnerable and unable to fight back, but he
stayed his hand. Because he’d slept with her? Because she…meant something,
drew upon something stronger than his spiritual conviction?

She hugged herself. “Answer me.”
Salim cursed. “I—”

The sound of a slap cracked through the air ducts, cutting him off. Cora jerked

to her feet and whirled around, scanning the baseboards until she found the
latticed grate. “What was that?”

“Miranda shedding her prim, ladylike manners. Cora, I—”
“Do you think he attacked her?” She headed for the stairs.

Salim’s arm shot out and blocked her path. Frustration tensed his shoulders

and throat. “He is well confined. She lost her temper, is all. Stay here.”

Her mouth dried. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the taut bulge of his bicep,

flexed and poised to hold her in place if she moved. His chest cornered her, a
warm wall covered by black cotton. Beneath it, dark hair dusted his stomach—she

knew even though she couldn’t see. Her fingers remembered the sensation of
stroking his abdomen, warm and tense for her caress.

“With you,” she whispered.
His voice lowered. “With me.”
His body made her dizzy. Hot. Cora tipped her head back and searched his

eyes. His irises glittered in the dim light from the stairwell, but she couldn’t read

anything in their dark depths. “You don’t seriously mean to seduce me,” she said.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“I mean to take advantage of this time to remind you that you are mine. Not

the property of some renegade spirit.” He touched her face, cupped her jaw,
dragged his thumb across her bottom lip.

Cora inhaled, relished the masculine salt-scent of his skin. She had to close

her eyes, to find some inner stability so she could say, “I’m not your property,
either.”

The refusal hung between them. Cora focused on staying still. If she shook, it

would give her lie away, and he would know just how thoroughly she melted in

his hands.

“Not in ownership terms,” he agreed a moment later. He laid his hands at

either side of her face, spread his fingers through her hair, and circled to cup her
nape. “But in connection terms? I’m tied to you. Your tie, though…is it me, or is it
to my dragon?”

Her eyes popped back open, startled by the insecurity of his question. “What

do you mean, you or the dragon?”

“I didn’t think I made the question unclear.” He kissed the arches of her

eyebrows.

She turned her head away. “How can I answer that? I can’t separate you.

Everything you do is dragon-tied. Da’ar Es Saleem is part of you. He’s so much

part of you that you move together naturally, no resistance, no disagreement. You
act on his behalf. He acts on yours. Pursuing me is an action you take on his
behalf.”

“You’re the best damned liar I’ve ever met.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you do know.” He flattened one hand beneath her left breast and the

other across her forehead. “Somewhere in here, you know it’s me. But you tell
yourself the lies anyway. You lie about your feelings—convince yourself there’s
nothing real because you’re divided between us.”

Cora flung his hand away from her face. Ice water sluiced over her desire.

“You are so full of shit.”

Salim crowded forward. “You didn’t blindfold a dragon with your panties and

sit on its face, sweetheart…and I assure you it wasn’t a dragon licking you
senseless. Now, you tell me—were you coming in my mouth, or…?”

Memory shuddered down the backs of her legs until her toes curled. Her

temperature spiked from freezing-cold to scalding-hot, and her traitorous body

throbbed its desire for a repeat performance. She looked away to hide her
reaction and whispered, “You’re crude.”

“I’m up front about what I want. You don’t recognize the difference because

you don’t know what truthful means.”

A painting propped against the wall stopped her retreat. Cora slid to the right,

gauging the odds that Salim would allow her to slip past him and bolt down the
stairs. She’d rather occupy the same room as Greg than face this…truth. If she
committed her yearning to words, admitted that she’d take him even without
dragons, she’d have no more defense. Her heart would be bare and spread wide,
and she feared what he could—would—do with it.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

She covered her face, hid behind her hands. “Go to hell.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“Tell me,” Salim insisted. His hands encircled her wrists, tugged. “Stop

hiding.”

“Fine.” She lowered her hands and looked him in the eyes. “Right now, I’m

thinking that you’re a giant dick.”

He flushed, but didn’t back down. “Before that. When you got that frightened

look on your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.
“Yes, you do.” His breath warmed her lips.

Cora closed her eyes and inhaled. He smelled like deep kisses. Dear God. “I’m

not doing this. I’m not taking off my clothes for you again.”

“Keep your clothes on.” He pressed forward and crushed her into the canvas

at her back. “You can tell the truth without showing skin.” He licked her bottom
lip.

She clamped her mouth shut, furious with the unexpected assault. She’d come

upstairs to escape. Miranda had promised to protect her from Salim—and would
have, at least with her presence, if Cora hadn’t been such a damned coward.

“Tell me,” he murmured. “Why are you afraid to allow this? Why do you keep

pushing me away?”

“Why do you keep pursuing it?” Tears pricked her eyelids. Mortified, she

ducked her head. She had many reasons to sever their ties. Dozens. But the only
one that came out was, “Ii came to me first. You’re not the right one, and I can’t
have you.”

Something in his posture changed—his heat center shifted as he drew himself

stiff. “Who told you that?”

“Ma said only one of them could be true. The one that arrived first…”
“Was the one you were programmed to call. That was poised and waiting to

respond. Christ, Cora, you listened to the recordings. You heard him with your
own clear, uncovered ears, as he told you what to do. What to say.”

Her memory balked at the reminder. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? How I

got it? Which one came first? Ii’s mine. Even if I don’t want the responsibility, I

have to deal with it. It’s part of me. And you’re going to take it away.”

“I’m not—” He caught himself. “Do you want it? Truly?”
She shook her head and whispered, “No.” I want you.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter Six

“I’ll help you.” Salim drew her close, cradling the back of her head in one

hand.

She breathed in his deep-kisses scent, blew it out on a sigh. “Your help will kill

me.”

“I think there’s another way. There must be.”
“How?”

“The man who planted the dragon also planted it in Greg. And removed it

from Greg, so it could transfer to you.”

“But he lost control of it. You saw.” The rollercoaster of doubt and hope wore

on her. She leaned into his embrace, too tired to stand on her own.

“He never had complete control. What we saw was him trying to fight the

removal, not fighting and losing to the dragon’s will.”

“How do you know that?”
“I’ve seen it before.” He stroked her hair, a reassuring gesture that made a

mockery of the reminder that he confronted out-of-control spirit-possessed every
day.

“Right,” she muttered. She must be crazy, turning to him for security.

Salim held her shoulders and pushed her back against a painting. “Look at

me.”

She rested her head against the oiled canvas, took a deep breath, and opened

her eyes. This close, she could see pinched creases at the corners of his mouth
and between his brows. Frown lines. Concern lines.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to have what you want. I want to give it

to you.”

“That’s all you want? To give something to me?”
“No. I’m not selfless.”
“Then what?”

“I want you to give too.”
“Sex.”
“No. That, I could take.”
“You want to know what I’m afraid of? I’m afraid that we don’t have anything

unless there’s magic involved. That without this drama, we’re lukewarm. Nothing
to talk about, no spark of attraction.”

“Neither dragon is here right now,” he murmured. “Let’s find out.”
“Right here?” Cora swallowed. Heat curled between her thighs.
“No dragons here,” he repeated, lowering his head and pressing his lips to the

curve of her throat.

Cora squeezed her hands into fists and jammed them against the canvas to

either side of her hips. Her body drew up on tiptoe, brought itself closer to
Salim’s mouth as his kiss traveled up her neck. The nip of teeth on her earlobe
made her moan.

Salim pressed his pelvis to hers, as if the sound beckoned his hips. Hardness

nuzzled her belly. “This is all me, all for you,” he whispered. His hands glided

around her waist to the small of her back, down past the drawstring band of her

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

sweatpants. “Are you concentrating? Focus, Cora. Stop me as soon as you feel
something that isn’t me.”

“This is how it started,” she breathed. Her fingers spread over the canvas, and

her feet stepped apart on their own. Salim’s palms molded her bottom, squeezed
and lifted to make room for the tips of his fingers, which sought her heat.

“It’s going to end different,” he promised.
Cora turned her face into his hair, burying her nose in the dark curls. Even his

hair smelled amazing, hot and electric as if his arousal sprang to attention all the

way to his scalp. She inhaled deep, directed the breath to her inner thighs and
concentrated on loosening her body, easing his passage. As her muscles relaxed,
his groin connected more intimately. Despite the padding of their clothes, a mini-
shock trembled up from her core. She grabbed for his shoulders, but the dark
smudges of charcoal on her hands made her pause.

“Salim, your drawing—” He connected with a charged, sensitive spot behind

her ear, breaking her direction of thought. She dropped her head back, smearing
charcoal into her hair and weakly finished, “We’re ruining it.”

“Don’t care. It’s not important.”
“But—”
He straightened, locked his forearm behind her back, and drew her away from

the canvas. “I’m not going to put something else before you. So I don’t care.”

His free hand shot out, grasped the corner of the easel, and shoved it aside so

forcefully it made a splintering sound as it hit the floor. Once that was out of the
way, he walked her back to the wall and sank to his knees.

Cora stared at the wealth of dark hair that hid his face, sank her hands into his

curls. “What are you doing? Stand up.”

He grunted his refusal, one hand busy unknotting her drawstring, the other

tugging impatiently at her waistband. Cool air skated across her abdomen when
he loosened the tie enough to shove her clothes down. His urgency cooled hers,
dunked it in a vat of reality. Cora grabbed for her pants and pushed her knee
against his chest. “Salim, stop. I don’t want this to be hard and fast, or something

you’re doing to prove a point,” she explained breathlessly.

He caught her knee and pushed her foot down to the floor. His hand remained

around her ankle, tight and vibrating with agitated energy. “It’s not proving a
point. This is the point—me and you.”

“But—”

A tortured shriek rattled through the ventilation grate. Salim’s head snapped

up, and he swore.

Blood cold, Cora scrambled out of his grasp and bolted for the stairs,

shouting, “Ma? Alyssa?”

She tore into the kitchen and drew up fast.

Alyssa stood with her back against the closed cellar door, her face cornstarch

white. “I’m not supposed to let you downstairs,” she whispered.

Salim brushed past Cora, grasped Alyssa by the elbows, and moved her entire

body three feet to the left so he could open the door. He vanished down the stairs.
She couldn’t make her feet move to follow him. Lead filled her shoes; adrenaline
only did so much to cut away at the bemusement of passion. She dragged her

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

gaze from the ominous rectangle of the doorway and stared at Alyssa. “If she’s
hurt…”

“She came upstairs and got a poker from the fireplace,” Alyssa said. Cora

didn’t think it possible for the other woman’s cheeks to fade another shade
whiter, but they did.

Miranda appeared at the top of the stairs, eyes hard and her lips drawn in a

tight line. “Your father did this.”

Bewilderment hummed between her ears. “What? Daddy’s in Louisiana.”

“Not him. Your father.” Miranda washed her hands beneath the tap.
Cora stared. Her tongue wanted to ask questions, but her mind wouldn’t

formulate anything coherent.

“Selfish son of a bitch,” Miranda muttered. She studied her fingernails,

squirted a dollop of dish detergent in her palm, and washed her hands a second
time. “He broke the rules. He knew the rules, and he broke them.” Louder, she

said, “This is the end, though. He’s not getting you the way he’s had me all these
years.”

While Miranda ranted to herself, Cora oozed onto a chair at the kitchen table.

She latched onto her mother’s words. “Who, Ma? What rules?”

“Your father. He knew how I felt about him being in contact with you. That

was our agreement—I’d cooperate, as long as he didn’t interfere with your life.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Diane and I went down every

summer. You know that.”

“Not him! And it has nothing to do with Diane.”
“It’s Beesom.” Alyssa’s voice rustled like onion paper, dry and fragile and shy

behind Miranda’s angry tones. The two small words dragged the kitchen into
silence, save a ragged quartet of breathing.

Cora broke it. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I need to know where

he is. He can….” She caught up to the point. “Ma? Is he—was he your
dragonlord?”

Miranda turned and stared at her. “I told you not to go near him.”

A little-girl eagerness to remove that expression of mixed horror and anger

from her mother’s eyes welled to her lips. “I haven’t, Mama. I swear.”

The older woman averted her eyes and removed a tube of moisturizer from

her handbag. She methodically smoothed lotion over each of her fingers and up
to her wrists. Speechless, mentally reeling, Cora had to look away. She refocused

on Salim, who had not moved from his vigil at the cellar door. He was too far
away, but she couldn’t go to him—he wouldn’t have answers for this new shock;
it, too, was women’s business.

He shifted his attention from Miranda. “Your dragon’s a plant,” he said,

futility and frustration in his voice. “A tool—for control, for some purpose. It has

to be Beesom’s agent.”

Cora bit her lip, unsure what to say. Beesom couldn’t be the bad guy. Couldn’t

be her…father. She needed him to be a teacher. She jerked around in her chair to
confront Miranda with mounting anger, but all she could do was stare. “Ma. You
have an aura.”

“It’s that dragon.” She shrugged. “It’s been coating me like sunscreen. Do you

want it back?”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“No, she doesn’t,” Salim said.
Cora frowned at him and opened her mouth to protest his presumptuousness,

but one look at his face, set hard and determined, stayed the objection. He wasn’t

wrong, just domineering. Instead, she asked Miranda, “Is it…hurting you?”

“Not at all.” She averted her eyes, a queer guilty hunch to her shoulders. “I

have to leave for a while.”

Alyssa said, “I’d like to see Diane.”
“I’ll let her know. While I’m gone, please coordinate a Circle and call them to

meet. I require an immediate trial for a Confinement.” Miranda placed a floral-
patterned address book upon the counter top. “My contact information was
updated last month. Call it in my name.”

Wordlessly, Alyssa picked up the compact volume, and Miranda left. She took

Ii with her. Cora felt his absence keenly; the weight of his presence lifted, and a
renewed sense of self-awareness came over her. Her head cleared of cobwebs she

didn’t realize had accumulated.

“She’s going to strip away everything he has.” Cora looked to Salim for

confirmation. He nodded. Relief hit so hard her cheeks flushed with
embarrassment. The punishment her mother demanded was too serious to
warrant relief, but she couldn’t bring herself to adopt a solemn regard for the

affair. Hypnosis, nightmares, dragon pearls be damned. Greg would never be in
her head again. The magic wouldn’t allow it.

“And probably place restrictions upon every move he makes for the rest of his

life,” Alyssa murmured. “It isn’t unwarranted.”

“No, it isn’t,” Salim said.

“Because of me?”
“Because he crossed too many boundaries and allowed himself to be used.” He

offered a key ring to Alyssa. “You’re welcome to use my study. We will be
upstairs. Please don’t interrupt.”

She nodded and turned away.
Salim crooked his finger at Cora. “Come with me.”

“Upstairs?” Her fingers curled around the edge of the table. She couldn’t read

his intention in his eyes, which were shuttered and neutral. She could guess,
though. Her nerves were strung tight and balanced on a precipice, teetering
between giddy lightheadedness and angry confusion. She had so many questions.
She needed to know about Beesom, but her only source for answers had walked

out the door. Salim was still here, though…and she needed to know about him
too.

“Now, Cora. Our time is limited.” A desire for comfort, closeness, answers

pulled her to her feet despite her uncertainty. He beckoned her to go first and
followed close behind. When she stopped in the long room, he said, “Keep going.”

She stood stiff and frozen. “The only thing upstairs is your bed.”
Salim slid his arm around her waist and aligned his heat to the length of her

body. His words kissed her earlobe. “You have to make a choice right now. That
creature of yours, or me and mine.”

“I don’t want Ii.” She tried to turn, but he tightened his grip and aborted her

attempt to face him.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“That’s only half a choice.” He splayed his fingers and placed his hand across

her abdomen. “Make the whole decision.”

Heat coursed into the center of her body and muddied her thoughts. Her

libido had no use for pros and cons; it cried out for him. For the man. Every other
part of him afforded an enhancement that some darker part of her craved. She
made an effort to ignore that shadow self, to find the self that she knew and was
under the bright light of day, the fluorescent light of her office. Her normal self, a
little overweight and a lot underdated, in bed by eleven with a cup of chamomile

and the television remote, had never wanted a man like Salim.

No matter how hard she searched, she couldn’t find that old version of

herself—not in its purest form. It was twisted, darkened, gone from lavender to
ultraviolet and stained permanently by the experiences she’d known at his hands.
She might be able to walk away now and bleach herself back to bland…but the
quiet, unassuming former Cora didn’t want to come back.

“I’m not like my mother,” she said slowly, feeling out her intention before her

tongue could get too far ahead. “I don’t want to be any kind of community
authority. I don’t want an address book full of phone numbers for members of a
witches’ tribunal.”

“I know your don’ts. Tell me what you do want.”

She shifted and turned her head. His profile remained beyond the range of her

vision. “I want to be part of you. Behind you. Not leading the way.”

“I can’t protect you from everything. This spirit relationship is part of who you

are, even if it’s a part that you don’t want to embrace.”

“Promise you won’t put me in front.”

He loosened his grip and turned her gently until they stood nose to nose. “I

promise I’ll stand beside you.”

“If I go up those steps, what’s going to happen?” She laid her palm along the

length of his jaw and pressed her thumb at the corner of his mouth. A scarlet
glimmer rose to the surface of his skin and twined around her fingers. His dragon
had returned.

His eyes glittered. “I’m going to complete the bond.”
She jerked her hand back. “What does that mean?”
“Cora—”
“Don’t ‘Cora’ me. What’s it mean? In complete detail.”
His jaw clenched, and he let her go, one slow-lifting finger at a time. Was he

angry? How could he be angry? She opened her mouth to ask, but didn’t make it
to the words.

“You know anything about car batteries?” he asked.
“What do batteries have to do with anything? I’m asking you about dragons,

not about a jumpstart!” She jammed her hands in her hair, fussing with the

tangles in agitation.

“Cora, stop,” he said quietly, pulling her hands away from her head. “I’m

sorry. I keep trying to put this in easy metaphors, and I keep screwing it up. We’ll
go back downstairs. Do you want a drink? Coffee?”

The whole time he spoke, he stroked her hair, more gentle on the knots than

she had been. Cora watched his eyes, but he watched his hands. Careful, gentling

hands, each caress long and complete, no sudden changes in the pattern.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“I’m not a horse,” she said wryly. “I’m not going to shy away if you give it to

me straight. Well—I might. But I’m not going to kick you.

“And no,” she added. “I don’t want to go back to the kitchen.”

She could use another floor of separation between herself and the mad

alchemist, but that would mean going up to the third level of the townhouse—and
that meant dangerous proximity to Salim’s bed. She had to stay away from it until
she got answers from him.

“I could bring something up for you,” he offered.

“No, I—” She stopped, bit her lip. Salim was stalling…but why? She studied

his features, his shoulders tense and drawn up, his mouth white at the corners.

“What are you worried about?” she asked.
He flushed and swallowed, Adam’s apple shifting in the action. “That you’ll

shy away. Or kick. You don’t want this.”

“But I want you.”

“You can’t be just a girlfriend. You have me as a lover—if you want more, it’s

more complicated than marriage vows.”

Her eyebrows rose at the mention of marriage. “What more is it?”
“You get me and my dragon. You become part of us. Giving to, receiving from,

me and him. Just me. Just him. It’s a multitude of relationships. And no, not all

of them sexual…but that’s part of it.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t let Ii and Da’ar Es Saleem…”
He nodded. “It wouldn’t have been just sex. It would have been a four-way

energy split and share, and I can’t sustain that. Even with you in the equation.
None of us would be able to maintain healthy levels of life-energy.”

“Ii would have added a stereo and high beams to everything else drawing on

the battery,” she realized, returning to his analogy. “And that’s why you looked
the way you did when you had both of them. Like you were starving, not
grounded in reality.”

“When one energy source starts to run out, the other one kicks in.”
“Until they all run out.”

“Yes. And that doesn’t take any circuit misfiring into account—the issue gets

bigger if one aspect draws more erratically than the other.”

“So…is your dragon stronger if he’s…bonded?”
“We all will be.”
Given that she wasn’t strong at all, in any regard, Cora wasn’t overly

concerned by her gains. She would have Salim. And she wouldn’t have Ii, would
she? She frowned. “You’ve referred to yours as the Protector.”

“You’ll be shielded from any outside influences.”
“Magic?”
“And mental invasion, scrying, disease, mugging…anything that invades.”

“And a bond happens through sex.”
“Through exchanging energy. Orgasm is one gateway for energy.”
“What are others?”
“Sharing blood…the vampire myth.”
“Others?”
“You can create elaborate channels through some rituals—entrance magic, as

opposed to warding magic. It’s not very personal,” he added.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“You want a personal bond,” she acknowledged.
“Don’t you?”
“I…yes,” she admitted.

“I’ve told you how I feel about our connection.”
“Destiny—uh, fate.”
He smiled slightly. “You’re still skeptical.”
“Not about the connection. Just about the word.”
“You can call it anything you want. I’m not here to change what you believe

in.”

“I don’t know what to do in a threesome,” Cora said, biting her lip.
Salim’s eyes darkened. He lowered his head, gently kissed her mouth, and

murmured, “You enjoy yourself.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter Seven

Salim whisked off her clothes and placed his hands atop her shoulders. He

pushed her down to the bed. “Sit here.”

Cora drew his pillow onto her lap and hugged it. The cool cotton of the

pillowcase teased her nipples. She tucked her feet back beneath the edge of the
comforter and bit her lip. Salim stretched to hang a leather amulet from a nail
that jutted from the plaster above the door. From there, he moved around the

room and did the same thing at each of the windows. As he fitted the last bit of
leather into place, thin arrows of bright light shot around the room. The light
flared at each marked point and went dark seconds later.

“Salim? What was that?”
“A lock.” He worked down the buttons of his shirt and knelt between her

knees. The material hung from his shoulders, a midnight contrast to the olive
skin beneath.

She swallowed. “Am I locked in?”
“No.” His palms curved over her thighs and squeezed. “Put the pillow down.”
“Will you turn off the light?”
“No.” He pulled at her forearm, plucked her feather armor from her grasp,

and tossed it over his shoulder. The pillow plopped onto the floor and slid up to
the base of the door. He teased, “Will you be more comfortable if I blindfold
you?”

Cora shook her head quickly. “I don’t want that.”
He made a sound of assent and bowed his head over her abdomen. His hair

spilled over his shoulder. A wealth of inky curls tickled her pelvic bones.

Cora’s mouth went dry. “Are you going to come up here with me?”
“Shh.” He brought his thumbs together below the dip of her navel and stroked

down into the blonde fluff that hid her sex. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“On what?” She curled her fists in the blanket, and her knees rose, as she

balanced anxiously on the tips of her toes. Quiet was too much for him to ask.
There was no way, not with his breath warming her that way.

“On maintaining some control.” He parted the pale curls and nestled his face

deep into the vee of her thighs. His tongue touched a sensitive spot, and Cora
squeaked.

“You were in a hurry twenty minutes ago,” she breathed. Her fingers moved

on their own and twined in his hair, wrapping silky curls into spirals.

Salim’s shoulders rose and fell. His sigh fanned across the tops of her thighs.

He rocked back on his heels and met her eyes. “I love the sound of your voice, but
I need you to be quiet.”

She twirled his hair around her hands until she cradled his head and pulled

him forward. “Why? I want you to kiss me.”

“Because.” He rose at her urging and brushed his lips below her chin, down

the column of her throat. “You can’t imagine how badly I want you.”

Cora shivered. She leaned back and pulled him with her. Salim landed with

his forearms at either side of her shoulders, his mouth working between her

breasts. She could imagine. Her own cravings had amplified a hundredfold since
he’d touched her bare stomach.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“I can so.” She bowed her back and bit his shoulder. His breath hissed

through his teeth. She bit him a second time. Harder. “You don’t have to hold
back.”

“You have to be ready.” He tugged her elbows and pushed them down to the

mattress. Her grip on his hair tightened. Salim growled. “Let go.”

“I don’t want to.”
“Cora…”
“I don’t want you to go slow.” She flexed her thighs and arched her hips until

her heat connected with the tense ripple of his stomach. “Can’t you feel? I’m
ready.”

Downstairs, a door slammed. Salim’s head jerked up, and he swore.
“See? We’re running out of time,” she whispered.
“I can’t hurry this, and I have to concentrate.” His jaw set, and he repositioned

her arms until they spread out to either side. He pressed two fingers to her lips.

“Not another word.”

The determination in his eyes reminded her that he was about more than sex.

Her desire cooled by a few degrees, and uncertainty set in. What exactly did
bonding entail? She was more confident about the union after their discussion,
but she still didn’t know the step for step plan. She wanted to ask more questions,

but couldn’t make her tongue work.

Salim closed his eyes and hummed a low vibration beneath his breath. He

kissed the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat, the spot right between her
eyebrows. His pelvis pinned her to the bed when he stretched first to the left, to
kiss the inside of her wrist, and then to the right to repeat the mark. Each place

his lips touched grew heavy. She couldn’t lift her head or her hands from the
mattress. A whisper of worry ghosted past her lips.

“Tell me what’s going to happen,” she pleaded.
He pulled her left nipple into his mouth and sucked. Cora squeezed her eyes

shut. She had to concentrate on breathing until he withdrew and kissed the
underside of her breast. Once his tongue slid away, her lungs resumed normal

function.

“It’s a lot like vampire feeding,” he murmured. His teeth grazed her right

nipple. “Even this way. First we work up your energy…”

She tensed and shrank, alarmed. “You’re not going to bite me, are you?”
He chuckled. “Not that much like it.”

She lowered her eyes and strained to watch him, but couldn’t see past the top

of his dark head bowed between her breasts. “I don’t understand.”

Salim rubbed his cheek down to the dip of her waist and nuzzled the sloping

curve. His barely-visible beard had a sandpaper texture that rasped her skin to
such sensitivity that she squirmed under the softness of his lips. It wasn’t right,

though. She couldn’t relax into his touch.

“You have to stop,” she said. “Lukewarm” wasn’t good enough for her, and she

was too preoccupied to permit the heat to escalate. Reluctant as she was to end
their lovemaking, she added, “And let me move my head again.”

He withdrew immediately, backed away with a soft curse. The charmed

weights that pinned her evaporated, light as smoke. She sat to find Salim

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

lowering himself into a high-backed armchair on the other side of the room, his
features schooled into a blank mask.

“I’ll help you free yourself from whatever Beesom has planned,” he said

evenly, “but after that, you have to go away from me.”

“Salim—”
He cut her off. “I can’t allow you to do this every other step, Cora. You can’t

commit, then take it back, the way you do. This isn’t a department store.”

“And I’m not a kid who has to be tricked in order to take her medicine.” She

slid off the bed and grabbed for her clothes, angry with him. “You don’t have to
hide this bonding—don’t have to disguise it with sex.”

“You think I was trying to sneak up on you with it? I told you what was going

to happen.”

“You said bonding. And then you said feeding.” She stepped into her panties

and stared at the sweatshirt she’d been wearing for what seemed like forever.

Dots of dried blood stained the zipper seam. She shuddered.

“Wear something of his.” A dark promise dripped from the edge of the last

word. Cora jerked her gaze up from the sweatshirt and stared at Salim’s eyes,
which gleamed garnet. The man had receded into the background.

Her throat dried. She covered her breasts with the stained bit of fleece and

backed up against the dresser. “What are you doing?”

“Bonding.” Da’ar Es Saleem stood. He retained Salim’s shape instead of

executing a full manifestation, so the male body was the one that approached her.
His true form might have been less unsettling—she didn’t like seeing Salim under
different control.

“What did you do with…”
He plucked the sweatshirt from her fingers. “Are you going to dress, or not?”
He stood so close that his body heat warmed her breasts and stomach. The

indignation she’d felt a few moments ago lost out to the arousal Salim had set out
to nurture. The dragon’s nearness—no, that was wrong. The man, amplified by
the dragon—he became stronger, wilder, a little more dangerous and a lot more

compelling on levels that she didn’t understand. Intimidating. She never thought
“intimidating” would be high on her list of attractive qualities, but it appealed to
her ultraviolet self. Together, their proximity revived her interest and fanned the
heat into a blaze that flushed her cheeks. Dear God. He’d stood in front of Greg
just like this, man-and-dragon combined, the first time she’d seen him…and he’d

come to her like this their first time together, overflowing with passion and some
unique chemical fusion that set off all her body’s triggers. Her emotional
attachment was to the man, but her body…no, that couldn’t be right. She didn’t
only want the dragon. She did want them both.

She covered her face with both hands and blew out a breath. She had to think.

Da’ar Es Saleem didn’t give her a chance. He slipped his hands beneath her arms
and lifted her abruptly, pushing her up to sit atop the bureau. Cora’s eyes flew
open to find him stepping between her legs.

“Yes or no, Cora. This is the last chance you get to change your mind.” He

cupped her chin and forced her gaze to his. “He’s too far back to abort it once I
start.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“Are you going to bite me?” she whispered. Not entirely sure she objected, she

thought to clarify, “And will it hurt?”

“I wouldn’t hurt you.” He released her chin and dragged the back of his hand

down her body, between her breasts. His thumb skimmed her navel. “Yes or no.”

She couldn’t have said no if she wanted to, not once the punch of attraction

struck her chest. Her head rocked back against the mirror. This was the
difference—the room for choice. Salim granted her so much freedom to choose
that she second- and third-guessed herself. The dragon didn’t have room for

changing minds, and she didn’t want to change hers. She just wanted to take
advantage of the option—she cut off that thought, curbed her emotional babbling.
Eyes closed, concentrating on the strength of the hand resting at the elastic
barrier of her panties, she said, “Do it.”

No warning. She didn’t even feel his shoulders bunch before the tear of fabric

hit her ears. His fingers sought out the wetness Salim had coaxed forth earlier

and filled her. She shoved her upper back against the glass, her body arching into
his invasion. The mirror’s staples groaned. She bit her lip and inhaled deeply,
tried to contain a moan, but he probed deeper into her body and latched onto the
one spot guaranteed to tear away her self-control.

“God. If this isn’t physical—”

“It’s not all physical,” he interrupted. The way his fingers twisted dragged

another moan from her throat. She clutched fistfuls of his hair and braced her
knees against his chest so she could pitch her hips at a different angle. His other
hand came up beneath her ass and lifted her. He bowed his head over her
stomach, and she dragged his mouth closer to the throbbing spot that craved his

tongue.

He licked, and a shot of ecstasy drilled straight to her brain. Her vision split

double; Salim’s image between her thighs, hungrily receiving her orgasm, and
behind it—above it—the dragon threw back his head and stood, eyes closed and
lips parted. His hands held Salim’s head in place, pushed the man’s tongue
deeper into her heat. Her cry rang hoarse and thin. The shocks of pleasure didn’t

stop, didn’t relent. Salim’s hands gripped her thighs and held her pinned to the
top of the dresser, but it felt like her entire body was being siphoned up to the
dragon’s open mouth.

Her skin burned up in cinders. The edges of the bureau dug into the backs of

her legs and bruised, discomfort invading the high wave. Da’ar Es Saleem’s grip

relented; he pulled Salim’s mouth from her wetness and said, “Put her on the
bed.”

Her lover lingered through another contraction, then kissed her thigh and

straightened. Cora sagged, relieved that the pair had granted her flesh respite.
Salim tenderly gathered her into his arms and pulled her from her hard seat. He

nuzzled her ear. “Are you all right?” he murmured.

“I can’t feel my toes.”
“Sensation will come back. Promise.” He moved to the bed and lowered her

onto the softness of blankets and pillows. She couldn’t see the dragon anymore.
He didn’t come up behind Salim, and her head was too heavy to lift.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Confused, she turned her cheek onto a pillow to look at Salim as he came onto

the bed beside her. “Is it over?” she asked. Part of her pleaded for rest. Another
part of her continued to throb, charged and ready.

He stroked damp hair away from her face. “Not until you feel complete.”
His response put her on edge, tensed her shoulders. “What does that mean?”
“A bond is two ways, sweetheart. We have to give back.”
Give back what? She struggled up on her elbow and scanned the bedroom.

Where had the dragon gone? “Salim, I don’t think…” The mattress depressed

behind her. She trailed off and met his eyes, saw the reflection of the dragon over
her shoulder.

“Don’t. Focus on me.” Salim pulled her over and maneuvered to stretch out

beneath her body. She’d forgotten his clothes; his jeans, still zipped and fastened,
scraped her thighs, and the tail of his shirt tangled around her elbow. His hands
tunneled through her hair and brought her lips down to his for the softest,

gentlest kiss she’d ever tasted. A soothing touch at the small of her back quickly
robbed her tension and rendered her boneless…and it didn’t belong to the man
beneath her.

Da’ar Es Saleem’s touch coursed down the back of her thigh. Salim sucked her

bottom lip and kneaded her neck until she sighed. The dragon cupped the full

part of her calf. The man cupped her left breast. Her pulse leapt into overdrive,
hammering so hard she had to pull her mouth away from Salim and drop her face
into the curve of his throat. She had to focus on breathing—her brain functions
left those organs behind and zoomed in on her nerve endings. Every touch fired a
new pleasure shock down to the base of her spine.

Salim flexed his hips and arched against her belly. “Say something,” he rasped

in her ear.

The dragon palmed both of her knees and spread her thighs wide. “Say yes,”

demanded the voice behind her. Hot breath warmed the wet triangle he’d
exposed.

Cora lifted her head to find Salim watching her, his skin flushed and the

tendons in his throat strained tight. She caressed his bottom lip, uncertain. “Are
you…okay with this?”

He rose up to kiss her throat. “With sharing you?”
She nodded.
Salim glanced over her shoulder, then back to her face. “Everything that he

has is mine, Cora. That goes both ways.”

“But…” She lowered her voice and ground down against his erection. “You’re

not having any fun.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You want me to?”
“Yes.”

“Okay. Push up.” He patted her ass.
Cora hesitated. If she moved the way he wanted her to, she’d expose herself

completely to Da’ar Es Saleem. The dragon might find her attractive from a front
view, but that graceless position—

“Stop thinking,” Salim cut in. “Make your decisions and follow through with

them. Consequences come after the fact, and you deal with them then.”

“You can’t just stop thinking!”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“We’ll help,” he promised, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
Big hands clasped her hips and dragged her up onto her knees. Cora’s eyes

flew wide. The dragon reached between her legs and spread his hand beneath her

abdomen to support her weight. She scrambled to find purchase and rose up on
her hands, looked down between her breasts in time to see the dragon lower
Salim’s zipper. Her mouth dried as he dragged at the denim and Salim’s cock
sprang into the alien, masculine hand.

Salim groaned. She jerked her gaze up. The sight of him in ecstasy, head

thrown back and throat arched, thrilled her straight to her fingertips. He bit his
lip and blew out a breath. Beads of perspiration dotted his brow. She glanced
down her body once more, saw Da’ar Es Saleem squeeze the smooth shaft until a
drop of fluid crowned the tip. The contrast in skin tones, the dragon’s deep shade
up against Salim’s paler flesh, excited her beyond reason. It also fired a strong
possessive spark; even though the erotic image of man and dragon kicked her

pulse up another pace, she found herself saying, “Don’t do that. I don’t want to
share.”

She got her knees beneath her and started to shift aside, but Salim forestalled

her. “You want to stop?”

A pained again? hung in the air, unspoken. Cora gave him credit for biting his

tongue before it came out. She couldn’t fault his frustration—her ping-pong
choices had him strung so tight he must be in pain. His abdomen flexed, tense
and trembling but the real dread was in his eyes.

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” she whispered, privately for him.
“I don’t want to scare you away or turn you off.”

She smiled faintly. Her turn to reassure. She kissed his chin, his lips, allowed

his kiss to cling a moment before she pulled back. “I’m not scared…just selfish. I
want my hands to make you look like that. My mouth.”

“Just you,” Salim promised.
Cora glanced down, watching to be sure.
Da’ar Es Saleem loosened his grip on Salim’s cock, wrapped his hands around

Cora’s thighs instead. He pulled, and she grabbed for the sheets, but Salim
brushed her hands aside. The dragon dragged her down the length of Salim’s
body until his erection lay hot and heavy between her breasts. The muscles in his
stomach rippled as he lifted his hips and rubbed against her sternum.

“Finish me,” he pleaded. “No more stalling. I need you.”

Behind her, Da’ar Es Saleem seemed content to stroke her calves. The activity

downstairs, however—another door opening, closing; the distant sound of
voices—reminded her that they didn’t have endless time at their disposal. Brow
furrowed, she rose up on her elbow and twisted to address the dragon.

“The next time we do this,” she said, “you’re not allowed to take him from me

at all. Not even for a minute.”

“Cora.” Salim stroked her forearm.
She ignored him, focused entirely on Da’ar Es Saleem, who knelt stiff and

attentive, his head angled to regard her face. “Not a single minute. Got it?”

The dragon nodded. “May I ask why?”
“Because I’m only here for him. You might be part of him, but you’re

secondary to me.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“I hope you will change your mind, but I understand. And consent.”
Salim grunted. “Can we talk about this later?” He raised his knee and pressed

his thigh against her side, guided his cock up toward her mouth. The head

nudged her chin, her bottom lip.

He’s yours in ways that he’ll never be mine.
Da’ar Es Saleem’s reassurance melted into her mind, easy and slick. Cora

pulled Salim’s hardness into her mouth. She tensed, jerked her head, but the
dragon’s big hand skimmed her spine and nestled into her hair. He held her in

place, a gentle touch, ensuring she gave the same pleasure that he’d enforced
earlier when he held Salim the same way between her thighs.

And I won’t take him from you.
His presence left quietly, allowing her awareness to return to the physical. The

flavor of Salim’s hot flesh in her mouth. The quiver against her tongue. The
erratic pattern of his breath as she rubbed her tongue down his length…the

strong touch of the dragon’s hands on her buttocks, her abdomen, stabilizing her
as his weight settled between her splayed calves.

Salim’s fingers played over her shoulders, her throat. She coaxed and cajoled

him to orgasm, so lost in the rhythm of his reaction, the pulse of his response,
that Da’ar Es Saleem’s touch blended into it—a seamless three-beat move. She

opened her mouth wider—sucked strong and hard. Salim jerked, gasped her
name. Da’ar Es Saleem filled her body, her mind, with promise and
completion…but he left her heart for Salim.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter Eight

By the time Cora finished dressing, Da’ar Es Saleem had gone—physically. His

energy hummed throughout her entire body, though, rejuvenating her spirit and
bolstering her energy. How his new presence in her personal energy field would
affect the Ii situation, she didn’t know. She couldn’t feel Ii at all, and hadn’t
sensed his influence—no thoughts, no directional pull, no anything.

She frowned at Salim, who was inserting a small amethyst stud into his

earlobe. Her lover was gone, his tenderness replaced by businesslike efficiency.
She wanted the lover back, wanted to crawl into bed with him and stay there, but
they had run out of time. Miranda’s voice had filtered through the heat ducts ten
minutes ago, drawing Salim from Cora’s arms. If she couldn’t get tender touches,
she may as well get into question mode. She had plenty to ask of her mother, but

decided to ease in with Salim first. Questions for him were easier. “Can aspects
evacuate on their own?”

He glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “Anything is possible. No two are

alike, beyond basic similarities. Why?”

“Because I think Ii is gone. There’s this void. Well, not a void, because now I

can feel yours, although it’s more of a benign humming presence than an active

other mind sharing my space. But I’m definitely not sharing it with Ii.”

“I don’t believe that aspect has sufficient strength to detach on its own,” he

said, slowly, working a puzzle as he spoke. “How long has it been?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe since I left you, Ma, and Alyssa in the cellar. He’s not

gone entirely—I could see him around Ma.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Now I’m

worried about her. She left so abruptly. I wasn’t thinking—what if he’s put her in
danger?”

“She didn’t show any signs of unwilling possession.” He turned away from the

mirror. Light glittered off the companion earring that matched the one in his ear.
“She’s probably downstairs, back by now. With the council.”

“We should go down, I suppose.” Trepidation fluttered in her stomach. “I hate

witches.”

Salim’s lips quirked. “They’re never a picnic in quantity. Will you wear this?

Amethysts have protective properties, and this pair is specifically fortified with a
mind barrier.”

“But Da’ar Es Saleem—”

“A little extra precaution doesn’t hurt.”
Cora donned the earring, touched by Salim’s concern. His willingness to give

her chance after chance to stand up and grow a backbone, despite her repeated
failures to follow through, humbled her. Family had to stick through personality
flaws, but men didn’t. He gave and gave, putting action in to back up his

confession of love, his faith that they had a deliberate purpose together, and she
returned it…feebly.

“I want to talk,” she blurted when he reached for the door. “About us.”
“It has to wait,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled

reassuringly. “It’s not going to go away. We can keep coming back.”

“I don’t want to wait. I want to talk now.” Irrational fear dredged up a

compulsion to touch him. She clutched the back of his shirt, put her shoulder

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

against the door to hold it closed, and met his eyes. “You deserve for me to love
you.”

He released the doorknob and smoothed hair from her cheeks, cupped the

back of her neck. “You will, but I know it has to wait. You have more important
issues right now.”

“Someone’s been very cruel,” she whispered, “to give you such a coward.”
His hand tightened at her nape. Anger darkened his eyes. “Never again. Is that

clear?”

Cora swallowed and averted her eyes. “Sorry.”
He kissed her hard, bruising her lips against her teeth. “Not that, either. Come

on.”

She sat on her fear, for lack of any other option, and straightened away from

the door so he could open it. Light flashed to indicate Salim had recalled the
wards he’d placed upon the room earlier.

“Relax,” he coached and opened the door.
Right. Relax. Salim stepped out first. Cora followed close on his heels,

unwilling to let him so far out of reach that she couldn’t linger in the protective
shadow of his broad shoulders. With the wards gone, the din of activity
downstairs grew louder—footsteps as people shuffled around, the low hum of

anxious conversation.

“How many people do you think Alyssa contacted?” She bit her nail. Da’ar Es

Saleem’s energy, folded up in her own, revved up from a low, unobtrusive hum to
a full-scale rumble.

“I don’t know. Probably more than showed up.” Salim stopped at the top of

the stairs, his arms outstretched and braced against the close walls. “Go back into
the bedroom,” he said.

The dragon-vibration kicked up another level. Her vision wobbled so badly

that Salim appeared to shake in front of her. Cora steadied herself against the
bathroom door, blinked several times, but her vision didn’t right itself.
“Something’s wrong,” she said. “Salim, the dragon—”

He swore and shouted, “Go back!” His knees buckled, and he pitched forward.

Cora’s heart stopped. She lunged and threw her arms around his waist, but his
weight dragged at her. They were both going to fall down the stairs. She braced
herself, jaw clenched so tight her teeth ached, and waited for the impact. A third
force changed their direction as it slammed Salim backward. The reversed

momentum threw her against the wall, away from the stairs, and hurled Salim’s
body into hers. The collision knocked the air from her lungs.

Salim sagged to his knees and pulled her down with him. Her hands refused

to release his shirt; her arms wouldn’t let him go. Red clouded her vibrating
vision and roared in her ears—Da’ar Es Saleem shoving himself out, instead of

waiting for an invitation to emerge. As the dragon surfaced, her awareness
elevated to a new level of sight and sound. A buzzing, writhing knot of color
seethed through Salim’s hair, over his shoulders. It crawled up her forearms,
where her body came in contact with his.

What in God’s name is going on?
Invasion. Da’ar Es Saleem grunted the word inside her head. The panic in his

mental voice surprised her into releasing Salim. He crumpled in a heap on the

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

floor, without the support of her embrace, and the mottled mass of color
swallowed him up.

Da’ar Es Saleem unleashed a shout that rang between her ears. His color

flared bright and angry, threaded through the alien swirl that gnawed at Salim.

“Oh God. Oh my God. Help him!” Cora shouted. She drew back and shook her

hands frantically. She couldn’t dislodge the red dragon’s aura. Had the bond
divided the dragon so thin that he was unable to protect Salim?

She dug into the seething cloud of color and scooped at it, but her fingers

passed right through. She couldn’t grab onto light. What am I supposed to do?

High heels clattered on the stairs below. Cora threw herself over Salim,

shielding him from the new threat.

“Coraline, they’re all unclaimed,” Miranda said from the landing below. “They

went straight to him—I should have known it would happen. I can’t believe it
took me this long to figure it out. The dragonlords are the sources. But he can’t

support that many. You have to take them.”

Her mother’s voice snuck into the chaos like a reassuring thread. Little-girl

tears sprang to her eyes. She had to force herself to stay put, to stay with Salim
instead of crawling into Miranda’s arms and hiding her face against her stomach.
She brushed helplessly at Salim’s hair, feeling stupid and useless.

They’re feeding. Da’ar Es Saleem. His presence diminished, faded—one

moment he was a roar, and in short course he’d reduced to a rumble. She drew
back and stared down at the man beneath her. Salim had curled into a fetal
position, and the skin of his face had gone tight and gaunt.

“They’re eating him,” she gasped, then covered her mouth, horrified.

“If you’re bonded, you can take them. Now,” Miranda snapped. She came up

the stairs, a white-ringed force of maternal command that reduced Cora to a
quivering child. “He isn’t a Queen. He can only feed one. Cora.”

The whip-crack of her name shook her terror loose. She drew her shoulders

up against the wall and braced herself. “How? I don’t know how, Ma.”

“Yes, you do. Greg told you.”

“I don’t know what he told me,” Cora shouted. “It’s all locked up!”
Miranda cocked her head, as if listening to another voice, and said, “‘A great

and wondrous sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the
moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head.’”

Cora’s muscles jerked—something in her head unlatched and flew open. She

shrank against the wall. A riot of knowledge, instructions and explanations, slid
and tangled, momentarily crowded out her awareness of the dangerous situation
at her feet.

Queens command. Greg’s voice.
Open your mouth and take them in.

Reassign them.
Every dragon starts with you.
“This can’t be right,” she muttered. She didn’t want it to be right. “I am not

a—”

Miranda’s exasperated voice broke through the echoes of Greg’s coaching.

“Coraline, you don’t have time to argue with this. Ask questions and protest later,

but you can’t change what you are.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

She didn’t have to acknowledge what she was, either…as long as she was okay

with watching Salim’s energy stores dry up right in front of her.

Miranda was right. Salim’s wristbone showed now, a hard knob stretching his

skin tight. The mass of dragons set upon him had settled into feasting. Their
numbers tore through the barrier provided by Da’ar Es Saleem. God, how many
dragons were here? Where did they come from? How would she even get their
attention?

You have to want it bad enough. She reached through the speckled, sickly

brown aura and laid her hand along Salim’s cheek. His eyelids fluttered, but
didn’t open; that frail expression of affinity slammed into her heart and squeezed.
She bent over and kissed his soft, unresponsive mouth. For a moment, while her
lips touched his, she felt the hungry urgency, the high vibrating sting of the
dragons—their biting teeth turned on her as an extension of Salim. Heat flared
inside her, a burning snap similar to the feeling she’d gotten when Ii’s pearl fell

into her stomach hot as a red coal. She suddenly knew how to do it.

“I want you bad enough,” she whispered, before she closed her eyes and

sucked the dragons down.

Color exploded as aspects skimmed past her taste buds. A yellow-lemon

dragon disentangled itself from a bluebell-flavored violet creature; a grass-green

aspect rinsed away the lingering taste of the previous two. Da’ar Es Saleem’s
weakened cinnamon self bumped her lips, but she shoved him away—told him,
you have to stay.

The metallic-grape, sour-wine flavor of Ii made her recoil. She jerked her head

back and stared, awe-struck and horrified, at the thin streamer of white light that

stretched down the stairs. It fastened her to Miranda, who had wrapped her
hands around the light thread and stood shaking her head.

“Not this one,” she said. “He’s mine, and I’m not letting go again.”
Miranda tugged on the light and reeled Ii in. The unexpected pressure, light

and spirit sliding up her throat, made Cora gag. Her eyes watered through a
coughing fit, and bile burned up her esophagus. She tried to relax her muscles—

she had no interest in fighting Miranda’s reclamation—but reflexes had a mind of
their own. When her mother gave one last hard pull, she fell forward on hands
and knees in time to watch the horrible little pearl drop to the floor, roll across
the landing, and skip down the stairs.

Her mother caught it. Cora looked away, unwilling to watch the pearl pass

Miranda’s lips, and exhaled the last tendril of Ii. It was a physical act, a
completion of an absence she’d already felt and acceded, and it opened the way
for another succession of greedy, rainbow-hued invaders. Each new creature
added weight to her shoulders, and soon her neck bowed under the pressure. She
rocked forward, balanced on her elbows and cradling her head in her hands. The

odor of paint was strong near the floor. It stung her nostrils but didn’t neutralize
the draconic witch’s brew that coursed across her tongue.

Beside her, Salim groaned. The sound bolstered her strength. She pushed up

on wobbling elbows in time to see his eyelids flutter open. Bruised half-moons
nested beneath his unfocused, confused eyes.

“Cora? What are you doing?” The thready quality of his voice made her falter.

She coughed on spirit ephemera until her eyes watered. Salim raised a tears-

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

blurred hand off the floor and waved it through the murky rope of aura that
stretched between them. It spun thinner and thinner as each of the dragons
abandoned Salim in favor of the buffet she offered. Eventually, Da’ar Es Saleem’s

strong red colors resumed possession.

Hunger exploded inside her stomach and chewed at every corner of her body.

Salim struggled upright. His strength faltered once, but he cursed and picked
himself up just in time to catch her as two of the dragons set upon her biceps.

“They were devouring you,” she managed.

“How is this any better?” Mouth grim, he wrestled her across his lap.
“I think it’s what I’m supposed to do.” She closed her eyes and took deep

breaths. Mind tricks. She could manage her own hunger, psych herself out until
she forgot about the gnawing, aggressive pangs.

Salim’s jaw worked. He cradled her head in the crook of his elbow and pointed

across her body, finger stabbing at Miranda. “You. What did you do to her?”

“I gave her the key to everything Greg locked up inside her,” Miranda

answered, worry in her words. “But he must have missed something.”

“Figure out what he missed.” Salim’s tight, clipped tones made Cora flinch.
“I don’t know how to make them stop eating,” she whispered.
Miranda came closer, stairs creaking under foot. “He didn’t tell you?” She

muttered “men” beneath her breath.

“If he’d told me, I would do it.”
“It’s simple, really,” Miranda said, disgust lending a hard edge to her voice.

“You have to put your foot down and end the meal. Withdraw the nipple. It
belongs to you, take it away.”

“What?” Disbelief gave her enough strength to lift her head. She stared at

Miranda. “Ma, what are you talking about?”

“It’s just good parenting, Coraline. If I allowed you and Diane to eat

everything you wanted whenever you wanted, you’d both be cows. I had to put my
foot down and make a judgment call once in a while, refuse the desire for cake
and insist on vegetables instead. Now you have to do the same thing. They’ve had

enough. Take it away.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter Nine

Take it away.

Just like that. A lemonade memory, more than twenty years old, burned the

back of her throat. She and Diane weren’t even teenagers yet. They’d chased one
another down the dusty back alley that stretched between the road and their
paternal grandmother’s Tennessee farmhouse and tumbled into the kitchen
sweaty and breathless.

Diane started it with a shouted claim on the lemonade. “I get it first!”
“You’ll drink it all!” Cora jumped ahead and beat her into the kitchen.
“No I won’t. I’ll leave you a glass.”
“I’m thirstier than that!”
They wrestled over the old-fashioned icebox door, Cora throwing her weight

against it so Diane wouldn’t be the first to get to the pitcher of fresh lemonade.
Neither girl gained any ground. Diane eventually suggested they get straws and
drink from the pitcher at the same time.

“That way,” she said, “we’ll see who’s thirstiest.”
Cora eyed her sister suspiciously as Diane climbed up to retrieve the dusty box

of straws from the top cabinet, then they crowded around on either side of the

table and stuck their straws into the chipped glass pitcher. They locked gazes,
engaging one another in a drinking/staring contest, and slurped the lemonade
down. Neither was willing to stop for breath. Halfway to the bottom, Cora’s
stomach started to hurt and her tongue tingled from suction on the straw. Even
when she heard footsteps and saw Diane’s eyes widen and fix past her shoulder,

she drew another swallow. Sisterhood was a game of one-upmanship, and she
wanted to be the one up.

Miranda reached between them and plucked the straw from Diane’s mouth. “I

didn’t realize your grandmother no longer kept drinking glasses in the house.”

Triumphant, Cora sucked one last slurp and stuck her tongue out at Diane.

“That’s enough, Coraline. Both of you. Neither of you are welcome at the

dinner table tonight.” She took the pitcher away.

“But, Mama…” That was Diane, already pouting. “We’ll get hungry.”
“You’ve had plenty,” Miranda said, and that had been the end of the

discussion. Cora and Diane sat on the porch and sulked, nursing stomachs upset
by too much sugar and too much citric acid. Miranda’s word was a final line. No

further argument.

Hunger pangs returned her to the present. Cora squirmed and dug her elbow

into Salim’s thigh for leverage. “I need to sit up.”

He grunted, but helped. A commotion rang in the lower part of the house, and

he tensed. “How many witches are here?” he asked Miranda.

“I don’t know. Alyssa told me where you were, and I came straight—”
A shrill voice cut her off. “She called us together by the power of her name,

and I will know why! Right now.”

“I understand you deserve an explanation, but we’ve been explicitly

prohibited from going upstairs.” Alyssa’s more sedate tone underscored the

blustering witch as she added, “Disrespect for the rules of personal privacy have

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

brought us here. Will you, who have been enlisted to help restore law, violate it
now?”

A third conversant said, “I’m certain my mother will appear momentarily.

You’ll be more comfortable downstairs, than here. The paintings aren’t even on
display.”

Diane? She frowned at Miranda. “What’s she doing here?”
“She’s your sister. She belongs with us.”
“But—”

“I know,” Miranda dismissed. “She’s jealous of what you have, you’re afraid

you’ll hurt her again. Petty family things. Fix them later.”

Cora hid her face against her knees. She’d somehow forgotten about Greg—

had hoped he was a problem that would go away, now that Salim had him in
custody. She didn’t know the intricacies of trial format, but she did know she was
subject to investigation and judgment as much as Greg. The accuser had to prove

her grounds, build her case, withstand personal integrity examination…

“Ma, I can’t do this.” She raised her head. “I can’t stand in front of those

people—”

Miranda frowned. “Those people have known you your entire life.”
“I know. That’s why I can’t—Ma, I haven’t had a shower in forever. I’m

starving. I’ve got to figure out what to do about these dragons. You just told me
my father isn’t my real father,” she hissed, lowering her voice for the last part. “I.
Can. Not. Endure. A. Trial.”

Miranda flinched but didn’t back down. She firmed her mouth and said, “You

have to.”

Cora balled her fists so tight her fingers ached and pressed them against her

eyes. “I can’t believe you’re such a heartless bitch.”

Complete silence greeted her words. Beside her, Salim shifted his weight and

slid his arm around her waist. The warmth of his embrace, solid and secure,
brought tears to her eyes. She rubbed them away, determined not to give them to
her mother. She understood, now, the way Miranda worked—had always known,

but never experienced her pride and ambition in any capacity that she couldn’t
ignore. Her mother might relent on issues like marriage, but she wouldn’t go easy
here. Fine. Cora wouldn’t go easy, either.

“Please go downstairs,” she said to Salim. “You have to stall for me. And send

Diane up.”

“I’m not going to leave you alone with this.” He tightened his grip and drew

her a couple inches across the floor until his thigh pressed hers.

“I don’t want you here.” She lowered her hands and met his eyes, which were

dark with concern and marked by lines of fatigue. The vital, energetic man who’d
shouted her name while he came in her mouth was gone, stolen by the parasites

sawing away at her spirit. Their damage to his energy field was starkly apparent
in every angle of his face.

“I can’t have you—you’re too distracting. Remember when you said you

couldn’t help because this is a woman’s role?”

“Yes, but—”
“You can’t help now, either,” she whispered, hoping a soft delivery would

lessen the impact.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

He dropped his arm and looked away, jaw clenched and clamped down on

whatever he wanted to say. His heat went with him, but she couldn’t call it back.

“You can’t get away from me,” he said, hard and terse. “It’s part of the bond.

He knows what happens to you, and then I know.”

“You’re going to have to learn how to know without reacting. And then we’re

all three going to have to learn privacy. But,” she finished, “not now. I’m sorry,
but now you have to go down there.”

“I do as well,” Miranda said. “Coraline, come down when you’re ready.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. You, me and Diane are

going to have a talk.”

“But—”
“You can’t say ‘no choice’ and mean everybody but yourself, Ma.”
Salim touched her hair. “I’ll send your sister. And I’ll know if you need me.”
Thankfully, he retreated without dawdling. She was strong enough to say he

had to leave, but scared she would have caved at another refusal.

“Just us girls now, Mama,” she murmured.
Miranda huffed, but lowered herself to sit on a step. “I don’t know why you’re

doing this.”

Cora didn’t answer. She wrapped her thinning arms around her knees and

stared at her wrists. The bones jutted more prominently than they had a day ago.
A muddy mix of auras ringed her fingers and underscored her chipped manicure.
The dragons still fed—she felt them inside, drinking and chewing and snapping at
one another—but somehow, her disintegration came slower than Salim’s. They’d
nearly reduced him to bone in a matter of minutes. His muscle deterioration

showed in the way he had descended the stairs, unsteady and holding the rail.

Did it happen slower with her because she was fat? Cora bit her lip. If that

were the case, she didn’t have that much more time than Salim. What could the
dragons consume in pounds per minute? If they operated on five pounds a
minute, she had about twenty minutes from the start of the feeding. After that,
they would have eaten through the fat stores and would begin to consume her

necessary muscle and bone…assuming they ate the most plentiful matter first.
For all she knew, they’d finished on muscle and were just now attacking fat.

Diane’s footsteps creaked across the gallery, slower than her normal gait. Cora

couldn’t watch the turn in the stairs. She was making her mother face her failings,
but she had to make herself do the same thing. Diane was the failure she most

regretted—of all the people Cora never wanted to hurt, her sister topped the list.

“Ma has some explanations she’d like to give. Stories she wants to elaborate

upon,” she said when Diane appeared.

Wordlessly, Diane scooted past Miranda and sat on the top step.
Cora raised her eyebrow at Miranda. “Why don’t you start with the parental

issue, Ma.”

Miranda stiffened. “I’ve never tried to humiliate you, Coraline. I don’t

appreciate your attitude now.”

“Don’t care. Start talking.”
“Ma?” Diane prompted. “What’s this about?”
Glowering, Miranda fussed with her hem. Ii’s aura shimmered pale around

her, attuned, no doubt, to her agitation. Cora couldn’t bring herself to care about

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

upset feelings. She had bigger problems with the mess of dragons still writhing
over her skin. What could she possibly do with them? Even if one belonged to
Diane, she couldn’t thrust it upon her sister. Not if it remained crazed like this.

“Your sister is angry with me for details I’ve kept secret,” Miranda began.
Cora rolled her eyes. “Nice technique, there, making me the bad guy.”
“I kept secrets,” Miranda amended sharply. “I had your father, and I had a

lover.”

“I know that,” Diane said, surprising Cora. “Big deal.”

“How did you know? Never mind—her lover is a dragonlord. Not Daddy.”

That part didn’t bother Cora so much—she’d never been able to reconcile her
gentle, grease-monkey father with a supernatural lifestyle, anyway.

“I didn’t think the dragons were going to come,” Miranda exclaimed. “What

was I supposed to do…wait forever? Your father and I were going steady since we
were sixteen. I couldn’t keep turning him down. Couldn’t tell him I was holding

out for a fairytale.

“Then, one day, after we’d been married about three years…” Miranda

shrugged. “Marcus came.”

Cora frowned. “Who is Marcus?”
“A homeless man who started sleeping under the stairs in our building.”

“But—”
“Did you really think you could know an entire past just because one secret

leaked?” Miranda asked derisively. “Marcus was sick and dirty. I went out for
milk one morning and found him dead at the bottom of the stairs.”

“But what about Paul?” Cora asked.

Diane interrupted. “Who’s Paul?”
“Paul Beesom. My father.” She added, “Not yours.”
“What—”
“This is my story,” Miranda said. “I’ll stop with it right now if you continue to

presume you have a right to it.”

Cora bit her lips and looked away. Beside her, Diane’s confusion was tangible,

a static charge on the narrow landing.

“Paul’s family owned the building. He came when the ambulance did to check

on his tenants, I suppose. And when he did, he…” Miranda shrugged. “He took
the dragon. Ii. Marcus’s death left the dragon’s aspect adrift. Flickering without a
battery to fuel him, I guess.”

“Marcus didn’t know what you were?”
“He might have, but how was I supposed to know what he was? He was a

diseased drifter living under my building’s stairs. I was twenty years old—did you
think I wanted anything to do with him?”

“What about Paul?” Diane asked.

“He…knew what he was doing. Knew how to communicate with me.

Recognized the dragon’s affinity for me.”

“But Daddy—”
“The combination of dragon and man does something to you,” Cora muttered.
“It does. Did,” Miranda confirmed.
“Does,” Cora corrected. “Still does. You still have him as part of your life.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Miranda hunched over her knees and folded her forearms atop them. “I’m not

explaining that to you.”

Cora glared at her mother. “You made it sound like you’ve been lonely and

abused all this time. That wasn’t fair, Ma. Not if it wasn’t true.”

“So what does this have to do with me?” Diane interjected. “Evidently this

dragon shit is a family thing, and I’m not part of it.”

“Diane, you are. Just not in the same way that Cora is. I made him swear to

stay away from you—”

“But he didn’t,” Cora mumbled. Her ears rang, louder as the minutes wore on.

“He didn’t stay away from any of us. He kept coming close and taking.”

“Except Salim has a talent that Paul couldn’t penetrate. Knowledge that he

couldn’t argue against. And that’s the only reason your sister has her dragon and
you don’t, Diane.”

“Now I have all of them. Don’t I?” A dozen adrift dragons tapping into her life

source. “Where’d you go when you left earlier?”

Guilt tightened the corners of Miranda’s mouth. “I had to know what Paul did,

to make sure that this dragon you’ve had was mine, that I wasn’t feeling some
trick.”

“Why did you lie to me? Why did you make me think you were

so…manipulated? So robbed? When all this time—”

Miranda stopped her. “When all this time, I’ve been living a grand life,

complete in my power and attuned with the full scope of my spirit? Do you really
think that? He took Ii from me, only gave me enough access to nourish the
dragon’s aspect. Not enough to nourish mine.”

A fraction of Cora’s anger drained away. She couldn’t fault Miranda for

wanting, and resenting, that sense of brightly colored completion that had finally
come to her once she acknowledged that she didn’t want to go back to life without
her dragon or her man. She wasn’t ready to forgive yet, though. The selfish
daughter part of her had expected an unselfish mother. Even though Cora
understood from a woman’s point of view, she couldn’t forgive from a child’s

perspective.

“This has to stop,” Diane said, making no attempt to hide her anger. “The ‘my

needs versus your needs’ shit? I don’t want to hear any more of it. Not tonight.
We have to go down and deal with this council, and after that—maybe—we can
talk about this again.”

“You’re right,” Cora sighed.
Cora dragged herself off the floor and had to brace against the wall. She stared

down her body, slightly sickened. The neckline of her shirt pulled away from her
chest, and the cups of her bra sagged. The underwire poked away from her
sternum. There wasn’t enough breast in them anymore, not to maintain the

structural integrity of the garment. The dark aura writhed, darker and more
active over her stomach.

“Cora?” Diane’s voice, concerned, came from a distance past the ringing. She

rose from the steps but stayed back. “Ma, what’s happening?”

“She’s putting her foot down,” Miranda said.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Outrage overrode nausea. “How dare you?” Cora demanded of the roiling

aura. “This is mine. My body. I don’t want any of you to fade away to nothing, but
I’m not sacrificing myself for you.”

They stilled. Hesitated. She detected uncertainty, but not much more. Unlike

her experience with Ii, who had been part of her mind, and unlike her bond with
Da’ar Es Saleem, who somehow, now, shared her deepest life energy, she didn’t
hear the intercepted dragons on a conversational level. The disconnect may have
her at a long-term disadvantage, but at that moment, the separation gave her an

edge. She focused on the mental barrier and fortified it, pushed them out even
further. The harder she pushed, the more distance she created between her body
and the invasive spirit mass. Her head throbbed from the effort required to push
the aspects out and draw her thoughts, emotions, in.

Blood-red light eventually spilled between her stomach and the other glow.

She started and jerked back, felt her face for sticky warmth. Had she ruptured

veins somehow?

You can relax now.
Da’ar Es Saleem. His presence always caught her by surprise, snuck up on her

and imposed itself without so much as a ripple of disturbance—in her bedroom in
the middle of the night, in Salim’s body mid-conversation, and now in her head—

between her skin and the snapping, tearing teeth of enemies.

I don’t believe they’re deliberately destructive. They’re…mindless. Starved.
“Well, I’m not feeding them anymore,” she vowed.
You will…but on your terms, now that you’ve found them. Until they stop

needing you.

* * * *

Cora had to hold up her pants. Even with the elastic in the waistband, they

slid down her hips without support. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror
mounted in the corridor between the foyer and the living room and paled before

her own eyes. Her face sported new angles and points. Shadows fell beneath her
cheekbones in a disconcerting manner. She didn’t have a full-length view of her
body, but the prominent line of her collarbone and the sharp triangle of her chin
said plenty. She’d gone from close to a hundred pounds overweight to…skinny.

To make sure, she stuck her hand under her shirt. The bony ridge of ribcage

made her skin crawl. She shuddered.

Down the hall, a floorboard creaked. A shadow slanted up the wall. Cora drew

her shoulders up and turned away from the mirror to face Diane.

They stared at one another for long minutes, unable to avoid eye contact like

she had on the stairs. Diane took double and triple takes of Cora’s diminished

form, and Cora gawked at the silk scarf wrapped around her sister’s head. She’d
burned Diane bald. Not a single strand of black hair escaped the beautiful scarf. A
hint of white bandage, of pinkened, injured flesh peeped from beneath the edge
of the eggshell-blue swatch of silk, but no hair. If she hadn’t known how much
hair Diane used to have, Cora wouldn’t realize anything had happened.

“You look amazing,” Cora blurted.

At the same time, Diane said, “You look like shit.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Cora flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”
“I know.” Diane came closer, unbuttoning her shirt. “You can’t wear that. You

look like a kid playing dress-up. Trade me.”

“What? I can’t take your clothes.”
“Yes you can. They’ll still be too big, but not as big as what you’re wearing.

The difference will be less noticeable.”

Diane ignored her protests and took charge. In no time, she had Cora

buttoned into her shirt and zipped into her jeans. She used the drawstring from

Cora’s sweats to belt the pants, then quickly shimmied into Cora’s discards.

“You’re the one who has to look presentable,” Diane explained. “Confident.

Try not to look so wounded.”

She finger-combed the tangles from Cora’s hair and stood back. “Ma’s going

to fatten you up when this is over. Brace yourself.”

Cora smiled wryly. Diane’s maternal derision meant that she’d eventually

forgive Miranda for slights she felt. Cora would, too, just…not yet. “I think she’s
recently revised her thoughts on meal allowances.” When Diane gave her a
puzzled look, she shook her head. “Never mind. How many are in there?”

“Alyssa found the required seven.”
Plus Salim, Miranda, Alyssa, and Diane. And Greg. “So twelve. Do I know any

of them?”

Diane frowned. “Thirteen. Ma, um. Brought a guest.”
Cora narrowed her eyes, reconsidering her eventual intention to forgive. “A

what?”

Ignoring Diane’s call to come back, Cora charged into the living room.

Eleven—no. Twelve heads swiveled in her direction. Miranda stood in a corner
near Salim, tense and quiet. The entire crowd maintained a strange brevity that
didn’t become a gathering of witches, which usually bubbled over with gossip and
attitude befitting the general age of the guests. She didn’t catch so much as a
whisper of it, though.

“Which one is he, Ma?” Cora asked, fixing Miranda with a stare.

Her mother straightened and frowned. “Coraline.”
Any other time, she would have caved under all the meaning injected in that

tone, that little word. Miranda managed to infuse it with a whip-crack of
discipline and tall superiority. She had honed her maternal indignation tone to a
fine, sharp point. That tone meant business, and consequences to follow if

business strayed too far outside the realm of what she believed to be proper
conduct.

Tonight, she refused to cave under the Mother Voice. “Which. One.”
Miranda didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. A man seated to the right of the

door rose from his chair and extended his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he

said.

He had a cultured voice. His fingernails were clipped neat and buffed by a

manicure. A thick gold ring, set with three tastefully spaced stones—a diamond, a
sapphire, and an opal—glittered on his third finger. Salt and pepper hair dusted
his knuckles. Her gaze went back to the ring. The stones were real. She, Diane,
and her mother exchanged birthstone jewelry as birthday gifts every year, and

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

she’d received enough opal earrings and pendants to recognize quality when she
saw it.

Cora bit her lip, unsure how to respond to him. She had a silly urge to remark

upon the piece of jewelry. Somehow, “those are my family birthstones” didn’t
seem situationally appropriate. They were the family birthstones, and he’d
chosen them deliberately. His connection to his daughters…but Miranda had said
only Cora belonged to Beesom. Who did the sapphire represent, if not Diane?
Another sister?

She swallowed and reluctantly lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. “You don’t

have a dragon,” she said quietly.

“No. Not anymore.” He lowered his hand. “You’ve taken them all.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter Ten

Cora turned away from Paul Beesom. Dismissed him. The action left her with

an odd heat in her cheeks, as if she’d done something wrong, but doing wrong
was the right course of action. She’d experienced the same feeling before, after
getting the last word in the rare fight with her dad—the one she’d grown up with,
spent summers with in Tennessee. Guilty triumph.

The flush pushed her into the real reason Alyssa had gathered these people,

largely strange faces, only the occasional one that she recognized from infrequent
holiday events. She searched out Salim’s familiar, beloved form. “Will you bring
Greg up?”

“You’re ready now?” He straightened from his post beside the hearth.
No. “Yes.”

Cora directed her attention to the late-night council. “My mother issued a

summons because we desire your objective wisdom in determining guilt or
innocence of a crime, and punishment for such should you decide a crime has
been committed.”

Diane made a choked sound that shook Cora’s concentration. She looked up

as Salim marched Greg into the room. Bruises mottled the blond man’s face. His

eyes had swollen to puffy slits, and clumps of hair were missing from his scalp.
Claw marks raked his chest, visible in the vee of his shirt. Not claw marks. Cora
met her mother’s eyes. Miranda lifted her chin in a silent challenge that Cora
couldn’t speak against. She’d claimed the right to vengeance, and taken it. She
was a mother, and it was her right.

“Almost two years ago,” Cora continued, leaving out the details of her

personal life at that time, “I met Greg Cho, and he enlisted his talent for hypnosis
in order to teach me how to summon spirits without my conscious knowledge. He
manipulated me into calling two dragon aspects. One of them belonged to him
and one of them belonged to Salim Aridi.”

The middle-aged council members met her introduction with a stoic lack of

response, so she went on, delicately treading the issue of Greg’s twisted sexuality.
“He executed personal acts of perversion against me, evidence for which exists in
the form of audio recordings. He abused the spirit familiar he’d been granted,
and lost control of it. His loss of control resulted in the fire that burned his
apothecary, and neighboring businesses, that winter.”

Hunger resurfaced. Cora fumbled, but talked past it. She glanced at Beesom.

“Most recently, he attacked me and forced his spirit aspect upon me. At that time,
he confessed that he operated under the direction of another person, although he
did not provide details as to his employer’s identity.”

“You spoke of proof,” a balding, bespectacled man said. “I presume you have it

here now?”

Cora’s mouth went dry. She couldn’t stand there and listen to Greg’s voice

telling her to touch herself, not in front of all these people, family and strangers,
and strange family. Somehow, though, she made her head move and nodded
affirmative. The last time she’d seen them, the tapes were stashed in a duffel bag

in the trunk of Salim’s car. If they weren’t still there, he must have them nearby.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“And you,” said another man. He eyed Salim. “While I do not believe you are

the most unbiased party in this affair, I do believe you’re the most qualified to
speak about this accusation of familiar abuse and wrongful placement.”

“She issued a summons that lured not only my aspect to her side, but also the

aspect Cho claimed to possess as his own,” Salim said without hesitation. “Once
she relinquished her claim, which she vowed was unintentional, the spirits
returned. He pursued the placement, however, and on two separate occasions
attempted to bestow upon her an unwanted familiar.”

“Three,” Cora interrupted, recalling the strange dream she’d had in her

mother’s house. The grape flavor that had lingered on her tongue, the presence of
the man in Miranda’s bedroom. She realized now that her mother’s bedmate had
probably been Beesom, which made Greg’s presence more plausible. Given his
connection to Beesom, she no longer believed the dream was anything so
innocent. Greg must have been there, somehow, granted access to the house, to

her, by her father’s influence.

Salim nodded to acknowledge her correction. “Upon one occasion, he

succeeded in tying her to his aspect. One of the most stringent rules governing
familiar contact states clearly that a witch who owns a familiar is responsible,
first and foremost, for the spirit’s well-being. A familiar must never be deprived

of nourishment and must never be taken by any person who is unable to maintain
control. Once the spirit becomes the dominant force, it must be separated from
the witch.”

“We know the law, shaman,” one woman snapped. “Explain its relevance to

this situation.”

“Greg Cho deliberately placed his familiar into a body that could neither

control nor support it. Cora Phillips does not pursue the craft, she has never
studied the careful relations of witch and spirit, and she didn’t know what to do
with the dragon imbedded in her energy. As a result of Cho’s violation of the law,
Diane Phillips suffered an attack that threatened her life and resulted in serious
physical injury.”

Beesom spoke next, startling Cora. “I want to review the other evidence. The

recordings.”

Diane and Salim voiced simultaneous objections, which raised several pairs of

eyebrows among the assemblage.

“How do you propose to prove anything if you’re unwilling to present your

evidence?” Beesom pressed.

Cora stared at him. The sandy-haired man’s expression was earnest, his

manner calm and reasonable. What did he want from her? He must know that
Greg had revealed him as the driving force behind the entire affair. What made
him feel safe enough that he sat easy and relaxed in front of twelve officials

dedicated to justice and punishment?

“I’m not unwilling. I will disclose all pertinent information to those who have

been gathered for the purpose of trial and judgment.” Salim’s clipped words
belied the sting of anger that his dragon conducted. It sizzled and snapped at her
fingertips.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Alyssa touched Cora’s elbow and drew her gaze. She wore an apology in her

eyes as she murmured, “They will insist upon listening to the tapes, you know.
You won’t be able to keep the details private.”

“Do I have to be here?”
“It will look better if you are, but they might allow you to appoint someone to

stand as your proxy.”

“I can’t stand here and watch their faces while they listen to him—to me—I

just can’t,” she whispered. “Every time I hear his voice, I feel like I’m going to

throw up.”

“Diane would stand for you,” Alyssa suggested. “She’s better equipped for the

process. If you enlist a proxy, though, the stand-in’s words become your words.
There are no second chances.”

Cora fidgeted. “I told them what happened. They haven’t asked Greg

anything!”

“To curb false accusations. We take accusation of perversion and violation of

spirit laws very seriously. The crime has serious ramifications…but so does the
accusation itself. Even if he is innocent, he’ll wear a stigma forever. He’ll have to
fight harder for support and learning. Every person he meets will expect him to
prove, time and again, that he isn’t guilty. Even if he isn’t convicted, he’ll lead an

accused life.”

“And if I believe strongly enough in his guilt…”
“You will endure any discomfort and humiliation to prove it,” Alyssa finished,

confirming her fears.

“I’m getting dizzy,” Cora muttered. “Are we allowed to have an intermission?”

Alyssa bit her lip. “We could probably negotiate a short one in order to gather

up the tapes…they’re cassettes, right?”

Cora nodded. “Small ones, from an answering machine. Little micro tapes.”
“We’ll need a special player for them, unless Salim has an answering machine.

That might buy a little—”

“You two.” Whip-crack sharp words cut Alyssa off. Cora’s head jerked up. She

scanned the gathering, searching for the speaker. The balding man adjusted his
glasses and stood, separating himself from the rest. “You’ve been engaged in
conversation for several minutes. I trust your topic is relevant.”

Cora swallowed the stutter that clustered on the tip of her tongue. He

reminded her of a particularly mean-spirited teacher, but she wouldn’t cower.

She hadn’t done anything wrong. “I instructed her to bring the tapes,” she said.

For the first time since Salim brought him into the room, Greg made a sound.

Cora made herself face him. Some creature stronger, more indignant, than she
thought she could ever be, challenged, “Does full disclosure make you
uncomfortable?”

Across the room, Diane coughed and made a slashing motion beneath her

chin. Cut it out. Cora sighed and turned away from Greg. This wasn’t the time to
suddenly grow a pair of balls and confront him.

* * * *

Miranda exploded into the kitchen behind her. “What is on these recordings?”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“This is my alone time, Ma. Please go away.” Cora braced her hands on the

edge of the counter in front of the microwave. A cardboard tray full of lasagna
twirled around on the glass plate, hypnotic in its rotation, and too slow to

appease the hunger that had given way to a throbbing headache.

“I will not go away. Nobody told me about this before now. Those people out

there are friends and colleagues, and—”

“And lovers?” Cora interrupted. She straightened and poured a glass of milk.

“I can’t believe you brought him here. Does Diane know? Why is he sitting there

free, asking questions like he has every right?”

Miranda paled and folded her arms across her chest. “He will testify against

Greg.”

“I thought you said he’s the one who sent Greg after me.”
“He is, but—”
“But? There is no but, Ma. You brought him here.” She narrowed her eyes.

“You brought him, and these dragons attacked Salim. They attacked me. They
still are.”

“I am well aware,” Miranda whispered furiously. She threw a quick, paranoid

glance over her shoulder. “Keep your voice down.”

“Why? Do you really want him in your bed badly enough to let him hurt me?

What about your ‘don’t give up control’ speech, your ‘do as I say, not as I do’?”
The microwave signaled a shrill alert that it had finished its cycle. Cora shook her
head, turned her back on Miranda, and rifled through Salim’s cabinets in search
of a plate.

Despite her mother’s shallow, socially over-aware sense of propriety, Cora had

never believed Miranda would choose status over her daughters’ wellbeing. The
offended, indignant expression the older woman wore now hit her hard, clawed
at her resolve to stand strong through this mess. She hadn’t asked for it. Miranda
issued the summons for a trial, yet here she stood, critical of the events it
revealed. For the first time in her life, she ventured to wonder what would
happen if she cut Miranda out. Diane was certainly happier screening her phone

calls and avoiding visits. The prospect of taking emotional scissors to a family tie
made her stomach churn, though. She shoveled a forkful of lasagna into her
mouth to distract herself, and feed the hunger the dragons had left behind.

Miranda didn’t leave the kitchen. She stood by the door, silent. Cora ignored

her and blocked out the sounds of people in the front end of the townhouse. Her

stomach gradually warmed and filled as she ate, and her headache eased by
degrees. Da’ar Es Saleem hummed inside her skin. She imagined him lined up
her spine and insulating her abdomen, a second layer of muscle holding her
upright and shielding her from the spirits she didn’t know, hadn’t asked for,
couldn’t release because, if she did, they would…what? Tear into Salim once

more? Return to Beesom?

Cora placed her fork in the sink and glanced at Miranda. “What does this feel

like to you?”

Her mother flushed. Humiliation, probably. Embarrassment. Diane appeared

behind Miranda, to her right, hovering in the doorway. The physical similarities
between Miranda and Diane were striking—the same dark hair, the same bottom

lip. In another twenty years, Diane would have Miranda’s hips, though maybe not

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

her shoulders. Physically, they were undeniably related. Temperamentally,
though—morally—their differences were vast. Diane had limits as to how much
she would suffer in order to protect her reputation. Miranda’s limits didn’t seem

to stop with her personal pain. Instead, they kept going, stretching to extend
beyond the boundaries of her daughters.

“Aren’t you going to answer, Ma?” she asked.
Miranda glanced at Diane, then quickly away. “This isn’t about me.”
Diane shot Cora a questioning look. “Did I miss something? Else?”

Cora bit her tongue, unwilling to widen the rift between them any further.

Despite Diane’s forgiving nature, she didn’t for a second believe that her sister
had no limits. “We’re having a small disagreement, but it’s over. Ma was just
leaving so she could send Beesom in here.”

Miranda’s mouth fell open. “Cora—”
“I have questions, and he’s the one with the answers. You wouldn’t let me go

to him before when Diane suggested it because you knew he had answers.” She
thrust her finger at the door. “I want to talk to him. Now. If you won’t get him,
I’m sure Diane will.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Chapter Eleven

“I can help you control the dragons,” Beesom said. He’d walked into the

kitchen and taken one look at her before making that pronouncement. “They’re
sapping all of your energy to grow and expand their own.”

Cora anchored herself in the right angle of the L-shaped counter. A drawer

handle grooved the small of her back. She bit her tongue and kept her response

close, considering his pronouncement and its inaccuracy. He didn’t know that she
already had them under control, small measure though it may be.

The dragons had been quiet until Beesom arrived in the kitchen. Now they

seethed in a knot of spirit, suspended away from her body in what she pictured to
be an invisible bubble that protected her from them. Even though they were—as

far as she could tell—well in hand, and unable to penetrate the barrier she’d
created, they strained. Toward her, away from Beesom. They entreated Da’ar Es
Saleem…whispered like squabbling ghosts inside her head.

Beesom withdrew a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and glanced at the

kitchen door. “Step outside with me?”

Cora shrugged and followed him outside. A miniscule patch of grass stood

beyond an even smaller plank porch. She closed the screen door, but left the
inner one open. Light from the kitchen illuminated his hands as he shook out a
cigarette and lit it.

“The real problem,” he said, leaning against the porch rail, “is over-

complication. Everyone assumes that it’s a complicated event, acquiring a spirit

at all, that it requires intricate rituals and valuable offerings, and since the
acquisition is complex, so must the management be complex.”

She didn’t respond, but he seemed content to speak on his own, answering

questions he presumed she had. Cora allowed the presumption. The more
information he gave, the less ignorance she had to reveal.

“In reality, dragon management—spirit management in general—is a matter

of concentration. Power exchange. Establishing which entity is in control, and
enforcing that control. In some regards, it’s similar to owning a dog. You reward
it for good behavior, you discipline it for bad behavior, and the animal learns to
regard you as its master.” He exhaled and glanced at her. “Obviously it differs on
some scales. For example, you can’t smack a dragon on the nose with a

newspaper. The reward-discipline conditioning principle still applies.”

Beesom was an educator. He gestured, punctuated the air with his cigarette to

finalize his point, and delivered the information by rote, familiar with it to the
point of comfortable. She could imagine him teaching a classroom. Retired
psychology professor? Public school administrator? It doesn’t matter, she

reminded herself. His accomplishments as a shaman were more important. Her
curiosity almost overran her wariness; questions came to her lips but she quelled
them. A niggling reluctance to reveal too much kept her quiet.

“Since your direction, your communication, your awareness of the spirit

aspects are all so firmly founded in emotion, intellect, instinct, your rewards and

punishment must stem from the same pathways.”

Curiosity won. “What does that mean?”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“You exercise control—declare yourself in possession of the upper hand—

through self-discipline and willpower. Establishing mental and emotional
boundaries. Relying upon your self-preservation instinct.” He flicked ash over the

rail and studied her with narrowed eyes. “Most people are decent at creating
boundaries. They do it every day. The guarded way you’re holding yourself right
now, hiding behind that glass, tells me that you’ve declared the parameters of
your physical space and I’m not welcome across them.”

He made so much sense she couldn’t believe she hadn’t figured it out on her

own. Or that nobody wanted to tell her. Surely Salim had known—he had Da’ar
Es Saleem firmly under control. Why wouldn’t Greg tell her, either? Was it
possible neither of them had really wanted her to find her footing?

“You’re not great at establishing emotional boundaries,” Beesom observed,

interrupting her thoughts. “And now you have this suspicious frown. Me or
somebody else?”

Cora attempted to bring her features to some neutral pose. “Why couldn’t

anybody else tell me that?”

He shrugged. “Knowing something does not go hand in hand with knowing

how to teach it to someone else.”

“But—”

“I doubt you’ve been deliberately slighted, my dear.” He read her mind. Did

her face give that much away?

“I’ve tried willpower.” Want it badly enough. That’s how Salim had explained

it.

“Pardon my assessment—it isn’t meant to be unflattering—but you strike me

as a young woman who asks for concessions, rather than one who demands them
without option for refusal. You’re fighting for the upper hand with dragons. They
are powerful, alpha creatures. They respect authority but refuse it if given an
option.”

“I don’t give—”
“Do you phrase desires in the form of a question?”

Cora blew out a breath. She had in the past. Upstairs, earlier, with the dragons

that attacked Salim, and her in turn, she’d responded out of necessity. The self-
preservation Beesom counseled, the maternal law-giver manner that her mother
advised. In that moment, her entire relationship with the dragons took a new
turn. She stopped running away and put her foot down, and she’d meant it. She

had no other choice—well, one other choice, but she refused to choose death.

“Not anymore,” she finally answered. She cocked her head and turned her

newfound, demanding manner back on him. “You did this to me. I want to know
why.”

“I gave the dragons to you because you’re strong enough to nurture them, and

I am not.” He held up his half-smoked cigarette, smiled wryly and shrugged.
“Lung cancer.”

“Yeah, right.” She snorted. “You started this more than a year ago. Try again.”
“I’m not lying to you, Cora. Look at their colors—they’re tainted, stained from

warding off my disease. The more it progresses, the more they take of it, the
hungrier they get. I needed you. Somebody to take them, to keep them from

dying out.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

She shook her head slowly. “No. You can’t do this. I’m not letting you turn

yourself into a good person, not after the shit you’ve put me through. Do you have
any idea what it was like? Nightmares—”

“All Lunes have them when they begin to unfold,” he interrupted.
Miranda would have known that. Cora ground her teeth. Had she ever told

her mother about the nightmares, the burning alive over and over again, every
night? She couldn’t remember that far back; the details had blurred, lost
themselves in the agony of sleeplessness once she realized that the dreams

weren’t going to stop.

“It was the craving for fire—”
“What craving for fire? I’ve never—”
“All Lunes—”
“You know what?” Cora broke in. “Fuck all Lunes. I don’t care what we’re

supposed to experience as ‘part of the process’. I care about what I experienced,

and since it’s your sperm that did it, it’s you who made it happen. You sent Greg
after me. You tortured me with that damned dragon that didn’t even belong to
me, that knew it didn’t, but was willing to use me in order to be free of Greg.”

Beesom flinched. “I didn’t know—”
“Didn’t know what? That Greg couldn’t manage it? That Ii would come out of

him neglected, spiritually starved, aggressive, abusive?” She moved closer, anger
carrying her past the boundaries of personal space, and tilted her head back to
stare into his eyes. “You want to hear the recordings Greg made while he carried
out the assignment you gave him? Or should I just tell you what he did?”

He bent and crushed his cigarette on the sole of his shoe. When he

straightened, he wore an intent, sincere expression. “I only instructed him to find
you and show you what to do. I couldn’t get close enough on my own. I promised
your mother, years ago. Before you were even born, she told me she wanted to
raise you in the Lune tradition, raise you to be a strong woman. You would have
come into all of this by yourself, but you turned away from it.”

“For a reason! I walked away for a reason. Did it occur to you my mother

wanted to give me a choice? That I chose a different path for myself? One that
didn’t involve witch councils or spirits or—”

“You didn’t have enough information to make an informed decision. Look

what happened when your dragons arrived. You didn’t even know what they
were, let alone what to do with them. How can you choose not to have a life that

you don’t even know exists?”

Beesom’s words, questions disguised as accusations, cornered her against the

door. She didn’t want to hear about promises made to Miranda. His claims might
be lies, but they might also be hand-to-God truth. If they were lies, she was in
over her head, because, heaven help her, she believed him…and if they were

truth, they revealed things about her mother that she didn’t want to know.

She looked away, stung more deeply by the prospect that Miranda had

deliberately handicapped her. Unwilling to believe it, but...

“Cora.” He touched her cheek, and she flinched away so hard the door rattled.
The dragons, condensed into a quietly pulsing ball, tensed with his nearness.

Their growls raced through her bones, deep as marrow. A warning. She relayed it

to Beesom. “The dragons react badly when you touch me. I do too. Don’t do it.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

“You care about them,” he said quietly. “I knew you would.”
“Not enough to take this kind of responsibility. The only reason I took them is

you sent them to attack Salim. I’d make you take them back right now, if I

thought I could trust you not to…do whatever you’ve been doing. Keeping them
from the men they belong to.”

“The women,” he corrected. “Harbored by a male, nurtured by a female.

You’re necessary. And I didn’t send them to attack him. He…stepped into their
path while they were trying to reach you.”

“You’re not making sense. If you care about them so much, why did you keep

them from completion?”

“Because their harbors weren’t educated properly either,” Salim said behind

her.

Startled, Cora turned to find him standing on the other side of the kitchen

door. The light illuminated the edges of his body, highlighted his hair in ruby

shots, but cast his face in shadows. How long had he been there?

“He is correct,” Beesom confirmed. “I couldn’t leave them born into men who

took but didn’t give, who didn’t know how to maintain control. Basic support is a
careful act of balance—let the scale drop too far one way, and the dragon starves.
Dies. Let it swing too far the other way, and the dragon takes over the man. Once

the man is gone—”

“The spirit ceases to exist in the realm of human reach,” Salim finished. He

joined them on the porch.

“You two are exactly the same.” Cora covered her mouth. No. That was wrong.

They worked on the same agendas, staunch dragon advocates, but adopted

different platforms. Similar, but not duplicates. The chief difference between
them lay in their approaches to individual choice. Salim made her face her
problems, figure out resolutions on her own. Beesom brought the problems to her
and made it impossible for her to walk away. If left to his mercy, she wouldn’t
even be an individual anymore.

She shook her head and pointed at Beesom. “I can’t keep them. That means

you can’t die. Not until we find people, all the women you’ve stolen from, and
educate them, and give them an option to come into this responsibility. You can
put them into people, like you did to me. And don’t give me this ‘I’m dying’ crap. I
know what Ma’s dragon can do. Maybe if you ask nicely and stop playing this
‘lord it over everything’ card, Ii will repair the damage you’ve done to yourself.”

Her father scowled. “I don’t want to do that. I’m ready to die.”
“Well, that’s just too damn bad. You should have thought of that before you

put me in charge.”

Salim’s lips twitched, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he cupped her

shoulder. She felt the caress as a full-body squeeze, transmitted from Salim’s

hand to his dragon’s aura, which wrapped around her in a tight response.

“Alyssa couldn’t delay,” Salim said, destroying the warmth of the ethereal

embrace. Even the apology in his voice didn’t help mute the dread that sank into
her stomach as he explained, “One of the council had a cassette player in her
bag.”

“I’m going in,” her father announced. Salim stepped back and allowed him

into the house.

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Cora placed her glass on the rail and hugged herself. “I don’t want to be there.

I can’t hear it again.”

“You don’t have to.” His palm slid behind her head and drew her close. He

kissed her hair. “Alyssa and your sister are clever women. They figured the
council wouldn’t stop, once they started. As soon as you stepped outside—”

“It’s finished?” she whispered. Relief perched precariously, waiting for Salim’s

nod to set it free. He gave it, and her head swam, dizzy as fear fled and lightened
her whole body.

“Next, they lock his magic. He abused it, he’s forbidden from using it ever

again. They can’t do that here, though. Diane is going with them as your proxy,
your witness. She’ll ensure the sentence is executed as it should be.”

“I won’t see him again?”
He shook his head, kissed the side of her neck. “No.”
“What does that mean? Locking his magic? How will that keep him away?”

“There’s more to it than the lock. Before you ask, I don’t know what more.

Some aspects of justice—well, we’re better off not knowing. I have dreams
enough, with dragon memories coming through, that I try not to expose myself to
unnecessary knowledge that could trigger nightmares. Besides,” he said, “I’m not
of high enough status that I’m privilege to the details. Your mother, though…I’m

sure if you really wanted to know, she could explain. She carries much more
weight than you’d think.”

“Is she still here?”
“She left. I don’t think she was prepared to face your experiences.”
“Oh.” She clutched his shirt, too aware of the pronounced ruts of his ribs as

they marched down his torso, and drew a deep breath of his scent. “I guess that
just leaves us left.”

“Just us,” he murmured.
Da’ar Es Saleem vibrated beneath her breastbone and tightened around her

legs. Cora buried her face against her man’s shoulder and rolled her eyes at her
dragon. And you.

“I’m still not free, you know,” she said. “I have to find all the other women

these guys belong to and give them back.”

“You won’t be able to do it in a single day.”
Cora shrugged. “Has to be done, no matter how long it takes. We’ll just have

to plan. Map out an efficient battle plan because I won’t get you all to myself

again until they’re all settled.”

“I think we’ll be able to find some privacy.”
“Not tonight, though. Witches don’t get the concept of outstaying their

welcome.”

He laughed quietly. “There’s a back staircase up to the gallery. Nobody will

even know we’re gone, if we tiptoe.”

* * * *

Three weeks later, Cora finally returned one of her mother’s phone calls. She

skipped polite greetings and went straight to, “Why did you raise me the way you

did? You left me so stupid.”

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

Miranda breathed a weary sigh. “I messed up. I didn’t do it on purpose.” She

sounded older, more worn down.

“I know you didn’t, Ma. But you chose to give me options, even while you

scoffed at them, and you chose to keep my knowledge minimal.” Cora stared
through her living room window, watching Salim pack boxes of her belongings
into the back of a rented SUV. She wasn’t giving up her Connecticut house or her
job, but she had arranged for an extended leave of absence. She couldn’t focus on
projected numbers, couldn’t analyze statistics and cooperate with planning teams

while she had dragons murmuring in her ears every waking moment.

“You hid Beesom from me,” she said after Miranda’s silence stretched thin.

“You never warned me about what could happen if I didn’t know what to do. Did
you think ignorance was some kind of safety precaution?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I believed Paul would leave you alone if you

didn’t know enough to attract his attention. He was greedy, Cora. Even though he

claims altruistic reasons for intercepting and hoarding dragon aspects, even
though he was genuinely concerned that some would be grossly mismanaged, he
cherished the power he found in them.”

Cora turned away from the window and sat on a dustcover-draped chair.

“Why did you keep him so close?”

“Why do you keep Salim close? Diane told me you’re going to stay in New

York for a while. Temporarily.”

“If I’m going to find the women these dragons belong to, I have to take some

time off work.”

Miranda made a maternal sound that raised the hair on the back of Cora’s

neck. “It’s hard to be away from him, isn’t it?” her mother asked.

Cora stiffened. “My relationship with him has no bearing upon this.”
“It does, and I think you know it. You know why I kept Paul close…as close as

I could and still protect you and your sister.”

She bit her tongue to stop herself from criticizing Miranda’s definition of

protection. In fairness, her mother had erected a reasonably effective shield…for

a time. Miranda had accomplished a distance much longer than Cora would have
been able to maintain in the same circumstances, but she wasn’t ready to admit
that yet. Not out loud, not to her mother. Her attachment to Salim was still new
enough that she wanted to keep it to herself, at least until she fully came to terms
with what she already suspected—that she wouldn’t want to return to Connecticut

without him even once all the dragons were returned to their mistresses.

“Are you still there?” Miranda asked.
“I’m here.”
“Well? You do know, don’t you?”
“I’m not the same as you,” Cora lied.

Miranda made a noncommittal noise. “Paul’s cancer isn’t growing.”
“You got Ii to work on him?”
“Yes. Grudgingly. He’ll be fit enough to help you.”
“Will he be willing?” Cora asked. She didn’t really want to work with Beesom,

would rather stay away from him and leave her mother to deal with the man she’d
chosen on her own, but Beesom alone knew where he acquired his—her—

Dragon Queen: Book 3: Dragon Bound

dragons. Since she refused to let them get close enough to talk to her, refused to
develop an attachment that she would eventually sever, she needed her father.

“He’s not a terrible man, Cora…he’s just a man. Like yours.”

She ground her teeth. “Stop saying that. He’s not good.”
“He’s not evil, either.”
“Not evil doesn’t equal good. Besides,” Cora added, “even if you and I are too

much alike for my comfort, our similarities don’t equate to similarities between
Paul and Salim.”

“I’m sorry.” Miranda sighed. “I’m only trying to fix things. To give you reasons

to forgive me. And him. He didn’t want Greg to act against you the way he did.”

Salim came through the door, bringing a warm gust of spring air with him.

Cora tilted her head, fascinated by the way the breeze slid through his hair. “I’m
going to go, Ma. I’ll see you once I’m back in the city.”

“Will you really see me, or will it be like this? Phone calls forever until you

finally decide to forgive me?”

“Get Diane to make reservations for tea,” she said and ended the call.
Salim raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to see your mother?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I suppose I can’t hold a grudge forever. She chose us over

Beesom for a much longer time than I think I could’ve chosen someone else over

you.”

Confusion and curiosity crossed his mouth, but he didn’t ask her to clarify.

Instead, he said, “Are you ready?”

She double checked one last window lock and joined him at the door. “For

what? Forgiving her?”

“No.” He reached out to stop her digging through her purse, looking for house

keys. Something shot between them, from his strong hand to her bicep. The
charge drew her gaze up to his. “I need to know whether you’re able to say it yet.
Before we leave here. Before we head in the next direction.”

Her stomach dropped. Salim’s lips formed neutral words, made no demands

other than a determination of her emotional state. His eyes, however, were dark

with desire for more than knowledge. His lips wanted a status update; his eyes
wanted love. She’d hoped for more time, more personal confidence, some miracle
pill that would make the words less…exposing.

“It’s not going to be easier a week from now, is it?” she asked, already

knowing the answer.

Salim pulled her so close the button of his jeans pressed her stomach. His hair

tickled her nose as he bent to kiss her ear. “The first time’s the hardest. It’ll get
easier after that.”

“Close your eyes,” she instructed.
He hesitated, but said, “They’re closed.”

Cora took a deep breath, closed her eyes too, and said, “I love you.”
He surprised her by laughing against her neck. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist. Maybe once they were on

the road, once her little house was physically behind her, she’d add “forever.”

Excerpt from

Sorcha’s Children

Book 1

Dragons’ Choice

Debbie Mumford

A Freya’s Bower Fantasy Novel

Dragons’ Choice

The clear-skied summer day enticed them as they left the castle grounds and rode

toward the distant forest. Aislinn adjusted to Copper’s rocking gait and gloried in the
fresh scents of new mown hay, freshly turned earth, and pungent, sweet peat fires.

The breeze blew across her face and cajoled strands of hair from their restraining

braid. Again, she appreciated her mother’s choice of trousers for this outing. She
couldn’t imagine maintaining her place in the saddle with skirts hindering her efforts. If
she had to wear clothes, she found the close fitting pants more to her liking. The other
ladies in the party managed horses and garments with no difficulty, but their oddly

positioned saddles struck Aislinn as highly precarious.

The hunting party cleared the area around the village and urged their horses to

greater speed across the open, unplowed meadow. Following her father’s example,
Aislinn leaned low over Copper’s neck and enjoyed the heart-pounding ride.

She’d rather be flying, of course, but this mad gallop satisfied her need for velocity

quite nicely. When they neared the edge of the forest, they slowed their pace and

stepped into the soft, green gloom with its welcome shade.

King Leofric urged his horse over to Aislinn’s side. “Well done, Lady Aislinn,” he

said. “You ride as well as your father said you would.”

“Dragonkind have many talents, sire,” she said, lowering her eyes demurely. “I’m

pleased not to be a burden to your party.”

“Not at all. Not at all,” he said, directing their mounts to a forest trail. “Now keep

those sharp eyes of yours on the brush ahead. If you see game—deer, elk, wild boar—
signal your father or me.” He leaned close to pat her arm and added, “You’re going to do
just fine, my dear. Just fine.”

They rode slowly through the dappled light, and Aislinn enjoyed the cool air, the

men’s camaraderie, and the horses muffled footfalls. Myriad small animals scurried
from their path, and birds sang in the trees. The sweet-sour odor of leaf mold assaulted
her nostrils along with the musk of the horses’ sweaty flanks. She absorbed all these
sensations and marveled at the difference between the scope of human and dragon
senses.

She missed the range of sounds her dragon hearing would have brought her, but

found the visual discrimination of her new eye placement quite adequate. Her sense of
smell lacked dragon acuity, but considering the closest object was a sweaty horse, she
doubted this was a handicap at the moment.

The biggest difference she’d encountered so far involved her sense of touch. Human

skin might be delicate compared to dragon scales, but the nuances of feeling she derived

from this fragile covering amazed her. Warmth spread through her body at the thought
of the exquisite sensations her morning’s explorations had evoked. Yes, this compact
and frighteningly fragile form held some surprising benefits.

Ahead, hounds belled. The dogs had scented prey.
Linked with her mare’s thoughts, Aislinn clung to the saddle, huddled low over

Copper’s neck, and raced to join the action. They fairly flew through the forest at
breakneck speed, Aislinn watching their path through Copper’s eyes.

The mare’s competent sure-footedness soothed Aislinn’s worries, and she switched

her concentration to easing her body’s reaction to the jarring pace. An image of her bed
and soft down comforter brought tears of mirth to her eyes. Her soft arse would be
bruised and aching after this helter-skelter ride.

Dragons’ Choice

Abruptly, the hunting party reined in and halted. Aislinn sat up straight, careful not

to moan and break the silence. A majestic stag stood in a clearing just beyond the tree
line. The hunters had brought their mounts up just inside the trees.

Aislinn caught an air of excitement from the courtiers and sent a querying thought to

her father along their dragon link.

It’s a white stag, her father replied, his mind-voice colored with reverent awe. Very

rare. Considered an omen, a messenger from the gods.

She hardly dared to breathe—the great horned beast swiveled his head and stared

directly at the riders. He knows we’re here, she replied, yet he does not flee.

As I said:a messenger of the gods.
In silence, King Leofric urged his horse toward the snow-white buck. When his

mount reached the center of the clearing, Leofric stepped from the saddle and
approached the stag on foot.

Aislinn’s heart skipped a beat as the unearthly white animal dipped his crown of

antlers and scraped the ground at the king’s booted feet. The stag raised his head,
glanced into Leofric’s eyes and delicately sniffed the breeze wafting through the glade.
He twisted his head and stared toward the forest, directly into Aislinn’s eyes.

Their gazes locked, and Aislinn’s heart froze—but not her mount. Copper stepped

forward and carried Aislinn into the focus of the circle of silent men and women. The

mare stopped beside the king’s mount, and Aislinn, following Leofric’s example,
dismounted. Without breaking eye-contact, she moved to stand beside the king and
genuflected to the white stag.

A demonstration is required, said an assured bass voice in the quiet depth of her

mind, a place her dragon link had never touched. Rise and be ready to act.

She straightened, uncertain whose will controlled her body.
Without warning, King Leofric leapt onto the back of the stag and the pair bounded

away. Aislinn sprang to Copper’s back and urged the mare to full gallop. The rest of the
hunting party cried out in alarm and spurred their mounts after Aislinn and the king.

The air around her rang with shouts from distraught humans, the thunder of hooves,

and cracks and snaps of breaking wood as the riders crashed through the underbrush. At

last, they broke out onto a windswept crag.

The eerie white stag stood waiting at the edge of a precipice, the king sitting glassy-

eyed and submissive on his back. The riders ranged themselves in a wide arc around the
beast. Again, Copper carried Aislinn forward to face the stag.

He stared into her eyes, inclined his magnificent head, whirled, jumped from the

cliff…and vanished.

The hunters yelled in horror. Leofric hung suspended in mid-air and then

plummeted into the ravine.

Aislinn leapt from Copper’s back, raced to the edge and threw herself into the void.

She shimmered from human woman to midnight blue dragon and arrowed after the

plunging figure. With a mighty swoop of wings, she caught the king in her front claws,
rescuing him from impalement on the jagged rocks, and spiraled back into the crystal
blue of the summer sky.

Aislinn! Her father’s voice pulled her attention back to the small figures huddled on

the precipice. Come back to earth, daughter. Bring the king back to us.

Of course, she answered, stifling a hysterical giggle. I hadn’t planned to eat him, you

know.

Dragons’ Choice

A smile colored Caedyrn’s reply. Of course not, but both of you have been behaving

oddly since the stag first appeared. Please land. The king’s people are uneasy.

With a final flourish of wings, Aislinn settled back to earth, landing on her hind legs

to protect Leofric from the impact. She set the king carefully on his feet and prepared to
metamorphose to human form. Her father’s mind-voice stopped her.

Wait, Aislinn, he said, pulling the cloak from his shoulders and stepping between the

huge blue dragon and the king’s hunting party. He unfurled the cloak and held it high. It
shielded Aislinn’s front legs from the courtiers’ view.

“Now, child,” he said aloud, heedless of his dragon-daughter’s sensitive ears. “These

good people will turn aside while you transform.” His ferocious gaze demanded their
obedience. Even the king angled his back to protect his rescuer’s modesty.

Aislinn closed her eyes and exhaled a long, slow breath. I remember, she assured her

father. I must not remove my clothes in the presence of men, and she shimmered into a
naked woman and wrapped herself quickly in her father’s upheld cloak.

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