Shelly Laurenston - Dragon kin 01 - To Challenge a Dragon

To Challenge a Dragon

Shelly Laurenston

Book One of the Dragon Kin Series

Triskelion Publishing

www.triskelionpublishing.com

Published by Triskelion Publishing www.triskelionpublishing.com

8190 W. Deer Valley Road , Peoria , AZ 85382 U.S.A.

First e-published by Triskelion Publishing

First e-publishing September 2004

ISBN1-932866-35-3

Cover art by James Troyer

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters places,

and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Dear Reader,

Here we are again. September, summer is coming to an end and the early morning dew coats the

grass and with it comes a fresh smell that brings forth beginnings of early fall.

We have a varied selection of books for you to enjoy this month, so sit back and check out the

sneak peak.

From Our Isis Reprints come Dream Angel and Dream Dancer from Denise Dietz. Both are

set against an exotic backdrop of a 19th Century Circus. Then there’s Australian author Anna Jacobs

writing as Sophie Jaye, Marrying a Stranger. A delightful story about a marriage of convenience.

From Cathy McDavid Real Men Sell Bras for C’est La Vie! A quirky contemporary.

From Amethyst Inferno this month we bring you three sizzling hot tales. These stories are sure to

increase the heat. Lynn Warren brings us Eternal Flame a wickedly devilish Vampire that will have

your pulses racing and the first in a Trilogy about The Blackthorn Triplets.

Stolen Courage comes to us from Rae Monet. This story will have you running through a gamut of

emotions. It’s highly sensual, deeply emotional with a fine dose of suspense. Just to keep you on the

edge of your seat. From Shelly Laurenston comes a fantasy tale To Challenge A Dragon a spunky

heroine and a sexy shapeshifting dragon will keep you delightfully entertained.

This month for Amethyst Flashburn we have Trail Boss by Julia Templeton. A smoldering hot

contemporary set on a dude ranch. This one is for all you Cowboy lovers.

Finally, Amethyst Flame Kally Jo Surbeck a medieval fantasy, Sudden Fall. A princess has to

find her soul-mate or her kingdom will be lost. This is the first of two books in the Yadderwal Balance

series.

And don’t forget, Operation: Pleiades The Curse of the Midnight Star continue this month.

Well, we have something to suit everyone’s tastes. I hope you enjoy September’s releases and

come for more.

Gail Northman

Editor: Triskelion Publishing

Dedication:

To Cypress B. and Terri O. The first fans of Fearghus the Destroyer and his kin. As they

both know, there is nothing like having the loyalty of dragons.

Chapter One

He’d heard the sounds of battle for quite sometime. But, as always, he ignored it. The wars of

men meant nothing to him. Never had. But those same sounds right outside his den? Well, that did stir

him to move.

His tail unwound from around his body and he slowly moved to the entrance of his home. He

didn’t know what to expect and not sure he even cared, but things were pretty boring right now and this

just might prove interesting. Or, at the very least, dinner.

***

The blade entered Annwyl’s side, ripping through armor and flesh and tearing through organs.

Blood flowed and she knew she was dying. The soldier smiled at her cry of pain, which only brought out

the tell-tale rage Annwyl had become famous for.

She raised her blade and, with a cry of pure blood-curdling fury, swung it. The steel sang

through the air as it swiped through the man, separating his head from his neck. His blood slashed across

her face and arm. The other soldiers stopped. They had handily disposed of her small band of warriors

without much trouble once they had them backed into this desolate glen. But she never allowed them an

easy path to the killing blow. Until now.

Her life’s blood drained from her body and she knew her time grew short. Her vision hazy, she

felt weaker and lighter. She struggled to breathe. But she’d fight as long as she had breath in her body.

Annwyl raised her sword, clasping the handle in both bloody hands and waited for the next attack.

One of the men stepped forward. She could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to be the

one to take her head. Present it to her brother so that he could keep it as a trophy and warning to others

who would dare question his reign.

She watched him move with assured slowness. Clearly, he also knew she was dying. Knew she

couldn’t fight much longer.

Her legs shook as her strength fled, and her body ached to lie down for just a few minutes and

sleep. Just a little nap...

Annwyl’s eyes snapped open and she realized the soldier was that much closer. She swung her

sword and he easily parried the blow. He smiled and Annwyl would give her soul for just one last surge

of strength to wipe that smug smile off his face.

The soldier looked back at his comrades, making sure they were all watching before he killed

her. But he left himself open. And one thing her father always taught her…never let an obvious

opportunity pass by. She ran him through with her blade, slamming the steel into his stomach as his head

snapped back around to look at her in horror. For good measure, she twisted her sword in his gut,

watching in satisfaction as he opened his mouth to scream but left the world with nothing more than a

whimper.

She yanked her blade out of him and he dropped to the ground. She knew that would be her

last kill, but she would still die with her blade raised. She turned to the remaining men but they, to her

surprise, no longer found her of any interest. They looked past her. In to the cave she now stood in

front of.

Annwyl tried to figure out what new trick this could be but she never took her fading eyes off the

men in front of her. Even as the ground shook under her. Even as they backed away from her in

obvious horror. Even as the enormous shadow fell across her body, completely blocking out the sun.

It wasn’t until the men screamed and began to run that she glanced up to see black scales

hovering just above her. When the scales moved, a large breath inhaled into even larger lungs, she finally

looked back at the fleeing soldiers.

The stream of fire flew across the glen, destroying trees, flowers and, eventually, men. Using her

sword now to prop herself up, she watched as the enemy soldiers were engulfed in flame, their bodies

writhing as they desperately fought to put out the fires that covered their bodies.

A small sense of satisfaction rippled through her, even with the knowledge that she would be

next. As the screams died away, Annwyl again looked up to find the dragon now looking down at her.

He watched her with obvious curiosity and made no move to blast her into oblivion. At least not yet.

“I’d fear you, Lord Dragon,” she got out as the little strength left fled her body and she dropped

to one knee, her hand still holding her blood-covered sword. “If I weren’t already dying.” She gave a

bitter half-smile. “Sorry to deny you that tasty morsel.” She coughed and blood flowed onto her chin

and down her burnished steel armor.

Annwyl’s body dropped to the ground. And, soon after, she felt herself moving. She didn’t

know whether her soul passed over to the land of her ancestors or into the mouth of a beast, but either

way she was done with this life.

Chapter Two

Annwyl heard moaning. Incessant, loud moaning. It took her several long moments to realize

that she was the one making the annoying sound.

She forced her eyes open and struggled to focus. She knew that she laid in a proper bed, her

naked body covered with animal furs. She could hear the crackle of a pit fire nearby and feel its

warmth. Other than that, she had no idea where she was or how the gods she got here. Last thing she

remembered… she died. But there was a little too much pain for her to be dead.

Her eyes focused and she realized she was in a room. A room with stone walls. She blinked

again and attempted to still the rising panic. These were no mere stone walls. But cave walls.

“By the gods,” she whispered as she reached out and touched her hand to the cold grey stone.

“Good. You’re awake.”

Annwyl gulped and prayed the gods were just playing a cruel joke on her. She raised herself on

her elbows when that deep, dark voice spoke again, “Careful. You don’t want to tear open those

stitches.”

With utter and almost heart-stopping dread, Annwyl looked over her shoulder and then couldn’t

turn away. There he was. An enormous black dragon, his wings pressed tight against his body. The

light emanating from the pit fire causing his shiny black scales to glisten. His huge horned head rested in

the center of one of his claws. He looked so casual. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he smirked

at her, his black eyes searing her from across the gulf between them. A magnificent creature. But a

creature nonetheless. A monster.

“Dragons can speak, then?” Brilliant, Annwyl. But she really didn’t know what else to say.

“Aye.” Scales brushed against stone and she bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself from

cringing. “My name is Fearghus.”

Annwyl frowned. “Fearghus?” She thought for a moment. Then dread settled over her bones,

dragging her down to the pits of despair. “Fearghus… the Destroyer?”

“That’s what they call me.”

“But you haven’t been seen in years. I thought you were a myth.” Right now, she silently prayed

he was a myth.

“Do I look like a myth?”

Annwyl stared at the enormous beast, marveling at the length and breadth of him. Black scales

covered the entire length of his body, two black horns atop his mighty head. And a mane of silky black

hair swept across his forehead, down his back, nearly touching the dirt floor. She cleared her throat.

“No. You look real enough to my eyes.”

“Good.”

“I’ve heard stories about you. You smote whole villages.”

“On occasion.”

She turned away from that steady gaze as she wondered how the gods could be so cruel.

Instead of letting her die in battle as a true warrior, they instead let her end up as dinner for a beast.

“And you are Annwyl of Garbhán Isle. Annwyl of the Dark Plains. And, last I heard, Annwyl

the Bloody.” Annwyl did cringe at that. She hated that particular title. “You take the heads of men and

bathe in their blood.”

“I do not!” She looked back at the dragon. “You take a man’s head there’s blood. Spurting

blood. But I do not bathe in anything but water.”

“If you say so.”

His calmness made her feel overly defensive. “And I’m not just taking men’s heads. Only the

enemies of Dark Plains. My brother’s men.”

“Ah, yes. Lorcan. The Butcher of Garbhán Isle. Seems to me if you just took his head your

war would be over.”

Annwyl gritted her teeth. And it wasn’t from the pain of her wound. “Do you think that I’ve not

thought of that? Do you think that if I could get close enough to the little toe-rag that I would not kill him

if I had the chance?” The dragon didn’t answer and her rage snapped right into place.

“Well… do you?”

The dragon blinked at her sudden outburst. “Do you always get this angry at the mention of your

brother?”

“No!” She barked. Then, “Yes!” Annwyl sighed. “Sometimes.” The dragon chuckled and she

fought the urge to start screaming. And to keep screaming. His laughter wasn’t an unpleasant sound, but

chatting up a dragon… well, perhaps she was finally going mad.

The dragon slowly moved from behind her and brought more of his enormous body into the

room. He settled to her right, but she could only see half of him without turning her head. The rest

remained outside the alcove. She wondered what he looked like in his entirety.

“Why, exactly am I not…”

“Dead?”

She nodded.

“You would be, if I hadn’t found you.”

“And why did you save me?”

“I don’t know. You… fascinate me.”

Annwyl frowned. “What?” Compared to a dragon, she was nothing. Just human.

“Your bravery. It fascinates me. When you saw me you didn’t try to run like those men. You

stood your ground.”

“I was already dying, what was the point?”

“It doesn’t matter. The dragon-fear affects young and old. The dying and the strong. You

should have run for your life or dropped to your knees begging for mercy.”

“I drop to my knees for no man,” she snapped before thinking. He laughed outright. A low,

pleasant sound. Like his speaking voice. Shame it belonged to a monster.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He chuckled as he carefully turned his big body, his head coming

frighteningly close to her, and walked out of the chamber. She watched as his tail swung into the room,

its sharp end grazing against the stone walls. She tried not to panic when she realized that his tail alone

stretched the length of the tallest man in her troops. “I will send someone to help you up and get you

fed.”

“A man?”

“What?” The dragon slammed his large head into the ceiling.

Annwyl lowered herself back on the bed. That had just been a dream. “Nothing. I’m tired.”

“Then you best get some sleep.”

“Wait!” He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. Annwyl took in a deep breath.

“Thank you. For saving me.”

“You’re welcome, beautiful one.” He started walking again. “But don’t get too comfortable,” he

casually tossed over his shoulder. “Who knows what I’ll make you do to repay me my kindness.”

Annwyl leaned back against the soft bed and felt a shudder run through her. She just wished she

could say that she shuddered from fear or at the very least revulsion. What truly worried her was that it

felt like neither.

***

Fearghus rubbed the fresh bump on his head. He’d heard about Annwyl the Bloody’s rage, but

he had no idea how overwhelming it could be. Her angry bellow damn near as powerful as a dragon’s

roar.

No wonder she hadn’t defeated her brother yet. He terrified her. He could tell from her

overzealous rage at the mere mention of the man.

If she faced Lorcan now, even if her body completely healed, he doubted she would defeat him.

Either her anger or her fear would get the best of her.

And for some inexplicable reason that thought worried the hell out of him. When did he start

caring about humans? Unlike some of his kin, he didn’t hate humans. Yet he didn’t live among them

either. So his original plans for the human girl were to simply heal her wounds then dump her near a

human village. He didn’t like complications. He didn’t like anyone around him. He liked peace. He

liked quiet. And not much else. But the mere thought of just leaving her somewhere sickened him.

He could already tell this was going to get complicated. And he hated complicated.

***

“Good. You’re awake.” Annwyl looked up into the face of a woman. A witch, based on the

precise, but brutal scar that marred one side of her face. All witches were marked in such a manner on

order of her brother. The face behind the scar looked as if it might have been beautiful once. “You must

have fallen asleep after he left.” She pulled the fur covering off Annwyl’s body. “Let’s get you up.”

Annwyl slowly swung her legs off the bed and, using one arm, pushed herself up.

“Careful now. Don’t want to open up that wound again.”

Annwyl nodded as she sat quietly, waiting for the nausea that suddenly descended upon her to

pass.

“You’re very lucky, you know.”

“Am I?”

“Most other dragons would have made you a meal. Not a guest.”

Annwyl nodded slowly, “I know.” Annwyl looked at the witch again. “I have seen you before.”

“Aye. I help at the village when I can.”

“The healer. I remember now. I had no idea you befriended the dragons.”

“They have my loyalty.”

Annwyl looked at the woman’s scars. Not surprising that she risked life among the dragons

rather than of men. “Did my brother do that to you?”

“He ordered it. He is not a friend to the Sisterhood.” The woman wrapped a robe around

Annwyl’s bare shoulders.

Her brother hated all witches. Mostly because they were women. And he absolutely hated all

women. “He’s always been afraid of that which he does not understand.”

“Does that include you?”

Annwyl laughed as she slowly pushed herself off the bed. The laugh sounded bitter even to her

own ears. “My brother understands me all too well. That’s why both of us have struggled to take any

ground.”

“I see you did not escape his punishment.” The witch motioned to the wounds on the young

woman’s back. The raised flesh healed but still an angry red.

“That’s not from him.” Annwyl pulled the robe tight around her body. Velvet and lush, she

loved the softness of it against her battle-hardened skin. She wondered what rich baron the dragon took

this from as he tore his caravan apart and ate the occupants.

The woman put her arm around Annwyl’s waist and helped her to a table laid out with food and

wine. “Your name is… Morfyd. Yes?” Annwyl lowered herself into a sturdy chair.

“Yes.”

“Did you help heal me as well?”

“Yes.”

“Well, thank you for your help, Morfyd. It is greatly appreciated.”

“I did it because the dragon asked. But betray him, lady…”

“Don’t threaten me.” Annwyl easily cut in without even looking up from the food before her. “I

really hate that. And you need not remind me of my blood debt to the dragon.” Annwyl sipped wine

from a silver chalice and stared at the woman. “I owe him my life. I’ll never betray him. And don’t call

me ‘lady.’ Annwyl will do.”

Carefully placing the chalice on the wood table, she found Morfyd staring at her. “Something

wrong?”

“No. I’m just very curious about you.”

“Well,” Annwyl grinned, “I’ve been told that I’m fascinating.”

Morfyd pulled out the only other chair and sat across from Annwyl. “I have heard much about

your brother. It amazes me you still live.”

Annwyl began to eat the hearty stew, desperately trying not to think too hard about what kind of

meat it contained. “It amazes me as well. Daily.”

“But you saved many people. Released many from his dungeons.”

Annwyl shrugged silently as she wondered whether that was gristle she currently chewed on.

“No one else would challenge him. No man would step forward to face him,” Morfyd pushed.

“Well, he’s my brother. He used to set fire to my hair and throw knives at my head. Facing him

in combat was inevitable.”

“But you lived under his roof until two years ago. We’ve all heard the stories about life on

Garbhán Isle.”

“My brother had other concerns after my father died. He wanted to make sure everyone feared

him. He didn’t have time to worry about his bastard sister.”

“Why didn’t he marry you off? He could have forged an alliance with one of the bigger

kingdoms.”

Annwyl briefly thought of Lord Hamish of Madron Province and how close she came to being his

bride. The thought chilled her.

“He tried. But the nobles just kept changing their minds.”

“And did you help them with that?”

She held up her thumb and forefinger, a little bit apart. “Just a little.”

For the first time, Morfyd smiled and Annwyl found herself warming up to the witch a bit.

Annwyl pushed her nearly empty bowl away from her and drank more of the wine. It shocked

her how well she ate. Shocked her that she still breathed.

“Make sure you finish off the wine. I have added herbs that will heal you and stave off infection.”

Annwyl stared warily into her wine chalice. “What kind of herbs?”

Morfyd shrugged as she stood, picking up Annwyl’s empty bowl. “Lots of different ones. It’s

my own potion. It works quite well. It can also heal rashes and gout. And prevent a woman from

becoming with child. But I guess that doesn’t matter to you.”

Annwyl glanced up from her wine. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re a virgin.”

Annwyl froze. That couldn’t be just an assumption. She’d lived with a male army for well over

two years; everyone assumed she lost her virginity ages ago.

“How did you…know that?”

“He told me.”

Annwyl knew the witch meant the dragon, and that’s when the fury built up in her chest. A fury

that she never could control. “Dragon!” She bellowed his name so loudly, Morfyd stumbled back away

from her.

The ground shook as the dragon returned to her. “What? What is it?”

Annwyl forced herself to her feet, her hand against her recent wound. “How did you know?

And tell me true.”

“Know what?” He looked at Morfyd who shrugged and quickly left. Almost ran.

“That I was a virgin. No one knows that. How did you?” She had no idea how long her deep

sleep held her. Unable to protect herself. Unable to stop someone from…she shook her head. She

couldn’t bear to even think it.

“This is why you demand my presence? Because I know your deep dark secret?”

“Not that you know. But how you know.”

He lowered his head until they were eye to eye. But Annwyl, too angry for logic, did not flinch

or back away. Considering his head was the length of her body and she towered over most men, she

probably should have. Instead she let her anger wash over her. Just as she always had. “Well?

Answer me!”

His black eyes narrowed at her angry shout, and his nostrils flared. “I can smell it on you.”

Annwyl reared back from the dragon, “What?”

“I can smell it on you. That no man has been with you. That your maidenhead is still in tact.

That you, beautiful one, are a virgin.”

Annwyl looked at the dragon in horror, her voice no more than a whisper. “Really? You can

smell that on me?”

“No,” he responded flatly. “But you are quite chatty in your sleep.”

She rolled her eyes, “You tricky…” Her anger fled as quickly as it came. She leaned against the

table, her strength waning.

“So, did you think I somehow took advantage of you while you slept?”

“Well…” Annwyl flinched as one talon tapped impatiently on the stone floor awaiting her

answer. “The thought had crossed my mind.” She lowered herself into one of the other chairs

surrounding the table. Too weak to stand any longer. “I’m sorry. I know only what I learned from my

brother... and he would have checked.”

The great beast sighed. “I have heard tales of your brother. You do realize that he should have

been killed at birth?”

Annwyl smiled, “If only.” She looked across the cave floor to the bed. It looked so far away

and her body was still so weak.

“Here.” He lowered his claw and opened it. Black talons as long as her leg glistened at Annwyl.

Shelly Laurenston - Dragon kin 01 - To Challenge a Dragon

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