The dragon’s stolen heir

Zac

I, Zac Dragan, love women. Tall, short, plump, slender. young and not so young. I love them all.

And I love whichever woman is presently keeping me company the most.

Right now she is a woman I teasingly referred to as Fancy, because she was a fancy bit of work. The illegitimate daughter of a dragon prince, she has to follow in her mother’s footsteps and take herself a love and a protector.She is however well aware that it will not be me, she knows my notorious reputation well enough to realize that I will provide her with an education in pleasure that will help her achieve what she wants. The numerous weeks of secret meetings have not been in vain. She now possesses talented hands and a wicked mouth that has kept me pleasantly occupied until dawn.

“I’m going to miss you so frightfully much,” She says, fanning her ebony hair out over the pillow, stretching languorously across the rumpled bed in a spartan room of the tavern where she had joined me the evening before.

“You'll be warming another man’s bed before nightfall," I say distractedly, standing at the window, buttoning my scarlet uniform jacket.

I feel like it should have bothered me that her silence acknowledges the truth: We mean little more to each other than an evening’s delightful entertainment. I never promise a woman more than I can deliver, never take one to my bed without her clear understanding that she will never have me beyond the sheets.

I am grateful that Fancy isn’t making a fuss, that she has already acknowledged that I will no longer be in her life.

Change is in the wind and I am welcoming its arrival.

Exhilaration floods through my veins at the prospect of the escapades awaiting me once I depart this room. From my vantage point two stories up, I can see the crowds lining the street,and I can hear the raised voices as they sing ‘I hope I will return to you my love’ while the army band pounds out the tune. With an excitement vibrating in the air as the sun peers over the horizon, the dragon army marches through in an undisciplined style that will be overlooked by their superiors.

Who can blame them for their heady anticipation as they make their way to the take off site and the first leg of a journey that will deliver them to the battlefield in Krimoa ? Adventure awaits. Honor. And Krimoan women. I can delay no longer. It is long past the time that I should join them.

I cross over to the bed and plant a lingering kiss on Fancy’s luscious mouth: plump lips that excel at bringing a man unbridled pleasure. When I pull back, I give her a devilish grin. “Thanks, darling, for the lovely farewell."

“Take care of yourself. When you return …," Her words are hopeful.

I touch her lips, silencing a promise that neither of us will be destined to keep. “Your allegiance will be to your protector. With my leaving, our time together is in the past. But I shall never forget you, Fancy, or the jolly good fun we had."

“I have no doubt you will say that to all the ladies," She gives a slight huff.

I do not deny her accusation, I tend to try not to lie. It is the most precious gift I give to each of my paramours: the belief that she is the one I will be thinking about when the devil comes to collect me for my sins.

Reaching up, she flattens her hand against my chest. “In my dreams you will continue to do wicked things to me.”

I send her my most dashing grin. “In mine as well."

Then I lean down to kiss her again for good measure, before rushing out the door, down the stairs, and into the mass of people who are celebrating as though the dragon army has just claimed victory over the Vampires rather than having only recently declared war on the bloodsucking bastards.

The army has been preparing for their departure for some time now. Far too many young dragons, hatchlings almost, still fresh faced and eager, confident that success in this campaign will come swiftly.

“Captain !” A young man shouts at me, grabbing my attention.

“Ludlow” With long, confident strides, I fall into step beside him.

The onlookers had taken up the tune of another war song, somehow managing to cheer, clap, and wave at the same time, all with an enthusiasm that speaks of confidence and belief in our cause. Boys run alongside us, dreaming of the day when they can join the army. Men clap our shoulders and reach out to shake our hands. Women blow kisses at us.

Ah, when we return home victorious, doors to many a bedchamber will open for those who arrive to a hero's welcome.

Not that I have ever had any troubles in that regard, but surely coming back with tales of heroics will add a touch of spice to any flirtation, and will open the arms of the shyest of maidens.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t make it, Captain," Ludlow shouts over the noise of the crowd.

“What ? And leave you to give the vamps a sound beating all by yourself ? Don’t be daft, man." I grin.

Ludlow’s rumbling laughter almost matches the boom of any cannon fire. He is a big, brawny brute, who had toiled in the fields before setting aside his plow to join the army. I am grateful that Ludlow and others like him will be at my side in the coming months while we face whatever lies in store for us in Krimoa.

“Zac!” My name rings over the crowd.

The echo of the familiar feminine voice sends desire rippling through me. Leaving Ludlow, I work my way through the cheering crowd to a brown haired, greeneyed beauty waving her handkerchief at me. Taking her in my arms, I blanket her delectable mouth with mine before pulling her into the shadows between two buildings.

“Gwendalyn, I didn’t expect to see you here today.” I tell her.

She is breathing rapidly, as she has many times in my bed. Her flushed cheeks bring out vivid images of the nights of pleasure we have shared. “I wanted to give you this. It carries my perfume.”

I bring the silk she is pressing against my palm to my nose, inhale, and close my eyes as though in rapture. “I shall always have heaven near”.

With a light laugh, she lifts herself onto her toes and kisses me quickly. My time is short. We both know it. “Please do be careful,” She pleads.

“When I have one such as you awaiting my return, how can I not be?” Kissing her once more, I leave her there with tears in her eyes while I shove my way through the throng to rejoin the marching troops.

We are supposed to be disciplined, fierce; but most of the soldiers are smiling as though they are on their way to a party. Not so fearsome at the moment, but it will come. We will prevail, and swiftly.

I hear another feminine voice calling my name. I spot Katti waving enthusiastically on the far side. I dart in and out between the soldiers, keeping an eye on her as she dash between the people lining the streets, until Katti and I finally meet. Winding my arm around her, I hold her steady, protecting her from the crush of bodies while I kiss her passionately, knowing that if her father is in the vicinity, he will not approve. She is fun because of her rebellious spirit and her love of adventure. I suspect that, if she was allowed, she would be marching off with us.

“A lock of my hair is in the locket," She says.

I close my fingers around her offering, the heart shaped locket with a gold chain threaded through it. “Then I will feel like I hold you near every night."

“Please return home soon,” She pleads.

“With you waiting, I shall not delay my return a single minute longer than necessary,” I promise.

I gift her a final kiss of farewell before stepping back into the stream of soldiers. I am carried along as though caught in a powerful stream. There is no stopping where it will go, what havoc it would wreak, what misery will be left in its wake. But no one is thinking of the work ahead. They seem concentrated only on the rewards they will receive when it is all over. Pay for a job well done. Service to a country and a queen they all loved.

Mayhem follows on our heels as we near the take off area.

The support and enthusiasm is incredible. From the beginning, when Fiorella ascended to the throne, she has had her soldiers engaged in small skirmishes somewhere. But this one is different. From the moment war was declared, the country seemed to come together as it hadn't since it had faced down the troll invasion sixty years ago. Victory is not questioned. The jubilation has begun. All that remains is for the dragon army to be sent off to deliver a sound beating before returning home to warm fires and warmer women.

“Zac!”

I spin around at the commanding male voice I recognize as belonging to my younger half brother, the esteemed Dragon prince of Orchard grove Draco. How is it that at only twenty to Draco can exude such power and authority, so much more than I do? Perhaps because I have always preferred play to responsibility, while Draco has determinedly taken up the reins his father had dropped upon his death. He had always held them with a steady hand and a confidence lacking in most men twice his age.

I had not expected my family to see me off, but there they are. My mother is the present dragon princess of Orchard grove, and will be until her youngest takes a wife. My older brother, the Dragon lord of West Cliff, and his wife, the lovely Djuna. Other than my mother, she is the only woman I have ever loved. I would do anything to assure her happiness. It had taken me a while to accept that the honor belongs to my brother which is how it should be, when all was said and done and my feelings had untangled themselves. She is more sister than lover to me. But a corner of my heart will always be reserved for her.

“Surely, you all have something better to do at this ungodly hour of the morning than deal with this maddening crowd,” I say flippantly. I have given them enough worry during my life. I do not want them to view my departure as anything other than a fun adventure. Even I refuse to acknowledge that it could be more difficult than anticipated.

My mother’s arms are around me before the last of my words has left my mouth. “You’re going to give me more gray hairs,” she chastised lovingly.

She credits me with every one that now pepper her black hair. But at forty-five, she still cuts a fine figure. She was just sixteen when she had married her first husband, the seventh dragon lord of West cliff. She had given him two sons before he died:

Morton, the present Dragon lord, and then me. But as brothers, however, we look nothing alike. Morton is much darker and more sinister in appearance, while I am smiling and playful, seeming to not give a care about anything. Life is to be embraced, enjoyed, and explored. It is what my family has always expected of me, and if I believe in nothing else, I believe in living up to expectations.

Leaning back, she studies me, her dark brown eyes searching my hazel ones. “There's no reason for you to go. I have influence in very high places.”

I have no doubt. Her second husband, the eighth dragon prince of Orchard grove, had been a very powerful man. She had made certain his authority rubbed off on her. Who could blame her? Her first husband had left her nearly destitute. She had done everything necessary to ensure she would never again find herself in a situation that left her with no control.

“I’ve been accused of lacking character," I drawl. I do not blame my family, or anyone else for that matter, for not looking below my surface. It is such an enticing surface, after all. Besides, I take nothing seriously. “What better way to build it up than by defeating a few vampires?"

“But Morton has forgiven you for your little prank.” She glances back at her eldest son. “Haven't you?"

The little prank, as his mother is referring to it, had involved being caught in bed with Morton’s wife. With Djuna. My brother gives a brusque nod.

I can’t help but smile, “I do hope the golden dragon in the sky offers me forgiveness with a bit more enthusiasm, otherwise I'll never get through those ivory gates.”

Morton laughs at that. He sees the humor in things much more often now that he and Djuna have reconciled. “You're not getting into dragon heaven any more than I am.”

Djuna scowls at him and teasingly slaps his arm. It is good to see her so comfortable with her husband now. She had once been terrified of him. She moves past Morton and embraces me. “Of course he's forgiven you. And you will get into heaven.”

I doubt it. I might be on a mission to build character, but I have no plans to stop sinning while doing it. Still, I hug her tightly. When she finally relinquishes her hold on me, I hold out my hand to my brother. “No hard feelings."

Morton grabs my hand and tugs me near, wrapping his other arm around me, and clapping me on the back. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Wouldn’t dare dream of it.” I grin.

Then only Draco remains. The baby brother who has never accepted his role as the youngest. There are times when he appears to be even older than Morton. Not in looks, but in behavior. He is far too responsible for his own good. “Take care of yourself, Puppy,” Draco says.

“Damnation. I hate it when you call me that." It always makes me feel as though I am the youngest, which I know is Draco’s intent. He is always telling me to grow up. It grows quite tedious after a while, especially as I have no plans to change my self-indulgent behavior.

Draco nods to signify it is the very reason he used the term, squeezing my hand, and slapping me hard on the shoulder. “Get back here as soon as you can.”

“This is nothing to worry about. I’ll be home in time for hunting season,” I tell him.

The commanding officer’s yell sounds harsh and loud.

“I must be off.” I hug my mother fiercely one last time, before rushing to the take off area where I will change into my dragon, which will carry me toward my destiny.