Sacrificed to the Dragon (3 page)

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“You obviously haven’t had to deal with dragon hunters or pro-containment activists. Some say that being pack animals or blood donors is all we’re good for.” He turned and started walking. “Come on. Stonefire’s clan leader is waiting for you.”

Asshole.
Even if he was having a bad day, he didn’t have to be so rude.

Mel half-jogged to catch up with him. He was still a foot or two ahead of her, but if he thought it would deter her from continuing their conversation, he was sadly mistaken. Anger had always made her brave—and a little bit careless. “You’re right; I don’t know much about the poachers or the anti-dragon people. But unless you tell me, I never will.”

Tristan stopped and she nearly ran into his back. He looked over his shoulder. “Look, I’m going to lay out the facts for you. While you might’ve volunteered for this, I didn’t and I don’t plan to waste my time on getting to know you or some such bullshit. I will do what I’m contracted to do, nothing more. I suggest you gear yourself up for some sex and enjoy it, because that’s all you’re going to get from me.”

Mel blinked. “You’re the male assigned to me?”

Tristan turned and gave a mocking bow. “The cream of the crop, my lady.”

“Somehow, I doubt it.”

There was a flash of hatred in his eyes. “I don’t want this any more than you do, but you signed the contract, which means you’re going to try to give me a child. And if all goes well, I hope you’ll leave me and my child alone and go back to your human life.”

He started walking again, and all Mel could do was stare. How in the hell was she supposed to sleep with
him
? She’d tried not to build up any fantasies about her life with the dragon-shifters, but never in a million years had she expected such a bastard to be assigned to her.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice; her hands were tied with the contract she’d signed.

Mel clenched her fists at her side and picked up her pace to catch up with Tristan. At least by the terms of her contract, she had two sex-free days to get to know the clan and have her basic questions answered. Somehow, in those two days, she needed to either find out why Tristan hated her so much or try to find a way to transfer the contract to a different dragonman.

Chapter Three

Thankfully, for the rest of the walk to Bram’s house, Melanie remained silent.

Tristan had laid out the facts and been as blunt as he could be, but if the stubborn glint in her eye was anything to go on, his brusque manner wasn’t going to be enough.

He still couldn’t believe her first question about his clan was whether dragons ever took humans up for a ride in the air or not. Even putting aside the fact she didn’t know much, if anything, about dragon-shifter ways, would she ask a human male she just met if she could have a piggyback ride?

No. She wouldn’t.

Humans felt entitled and had always viewed themselves superior to the “dragon beasts”. The restrictive laws in Britain about where they could go or who could visit their land only reinforced that fact.

As a boy, he’d dismissed the tales of human cruelty as nothing more than stories. But then they had tortured and killed his mother and he’d finally understood what monsters they could be.

At least Melanie had reminded him of that fact. A small, very small, part of him had wondered if his assigned female would be different. It was good to know she wasn’t.

Since his behavior didn’t seem to scare her off, he’d just have to think of other ways to persuade the female to leave either when her time was up or after she gave him a child.

To be honest, he wanted a child. A little male or female to help start a new family. His sister Arabella had been with his mother when the humans had captured her, and to this day, she hadn’t forgiven herself for leaving as their mother had begged her to do. But maybe a niece or nephew would finally help her to heal and move on.

Of course, that brought his problem full circle, to the female trailing behind him. Children required sex, and since he wasn’t a rapist, he’d have to get creative to get her naked.

The sound of Melanie’s half-jogging steps stopped. Wondering what she was doing now, he turned around to see her gaping at the collection of houses and workshops in the clan’s central living area. All of the houses were two stories and simple stone or brick, but even if her accent wasn’t quite English, she would’ve seen similar buildings in the little villages she’d passed on her way here.

On closer inspection, he realized that she wasn’t staring at the buildings but rather at the commotion going on behind them. The young dragons were practicing their take-offs and landings in the designated safe area.

The sight was an everyday occurrence to him, but not to the human.

But he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting her to Bram as fast as possible. He itched to go for a quick flight before the welcoming ceremony and every minute the female wasted watching the young dragons was a minute less of freedom spent in the skies.

Tristan walked over to Melanie and barked, “Stop gawking. We have a meeting with the clan leader.”

Her mouth had been hanging open, but she promptly shut it and scowled up at him. “There is nothing in my contract about having to follow your every order.” She crossed her arms across her chest and he forced himself not to look at her plumped up breasts. “Just ask me nicely to pick up my pace and see what happens.”

Yes, that determined glint was still in her eyes. As much as he wanted to get to Bram’s house, he couldn’t help but ask, “Why aren’t you afraid of me? For most humans, a dragon-shifter barking at them would send them into a fit.”

“I’m guessing by your comment that you didn’t read my file, so here it is: I’m earning my PhD in Social Anthropology. You do know what anthropology is, don’t you?”

He glared, careful not to let his confusion at her change of topic show. “I might be a big beast, but I have a brain. Anthropology is the study of culture.”

“Close enough.”

“And that has to do with your behavior how, exactly?”

She gestured to their surroundings. “All of this is new to me, and all I want to do is look at every detail and store it away into my memory. New cultures don’t scare me, they fascinate me.”

Bloody fantastic.
His assigned female was going to take a lot of persuading to make her leave at the end of her time. “You can look your fill tomorrow. Right now, you either need to start walking, or I’ll use other ways to get you to the meeting.”

She pointed a finger at him. “You act all scary and badass, but unless you want to risk your clan’s participation in the sacrifice system, you won’t hurt me.”

She was right; he would never deny the future of his clan that way. Nevertheless, he could do many things without hurting her.

He tossed her bag on the ground, bent over a little, pushed his shoulder against her body, and lifted her.

She squeaked and said, “What are you doing?”

He tightened his grip on her legs and tried to ignore the soft, feminine curves pressed against his body or the way her feminine scent made his inner dragon rumble in appreciation. His dragon said inside his head,
Her softness will be nice. When can we fuck her?

Shit. He didn’t need pressure from his inner beast.
Not now.

Forcing his dragon-half to the back of his mind, he said, “I’m not going to argue with you or try to be all nice and polite. That’s not who I am, and I’m sure as hell not going to change for you. So in the interest of time, I’ll just carry you. Your contract allows that.”

He started walking. He expected her to struggle, but leave it to the woman to start talking instead. “I have always believed the dragon-shifters weren’t the caveman alphas you’re all rumored to be, but your behavior has changed that. What are you going to do next? Chain me to a bed?”

“Thanks for giving me the idea, human. Keeping you tied to my bed might speed up the conception process, and then you can go live with the other unmated humans and give us both some peace.”

Melanie huffed, but fell quiet. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or be worried that she was coming up with a way to get back at him. If she kept standing up to him and challenging him at every turn, he might just have to tie her to the bed to keep her out of trouble.

~~~

Taking deep breaths in through her nose, Mel tried to calm down. She was aware that she’d fallen into the trap of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but the dragonman had a way of stirring her anger. If his words weren’t enough, he’d then picked her up and carried her on his shoulder as if it wasn’t the twenty-first century, but some far-gone time when women were nothing more than property.

True, she had no idea if women were viewed as property inside the dragon culture. Her research in the last few weeks had turned up very little about the dragon-shifters’ gender roles, or much of anything for that matter. But if the females were anything like the male under her stomach, she doubted they’d put up with Tristan’s manhandling or any of the rest of his crap.

Mel was clever enough to know fighting him was a waste of time; he could overpower her with one hand. Besides, being this close to his body, she couldn’t ignore the amount of heat radiating from the hard muscles of his chest and back, or the way he smelled of the wind and something uniquely masculine.

Before she could do something stupid, such as take a deep inhalation of Tristan’s oddly intoxicating scent, he stopped and slowly slid her body down his. Her curves loved the contrasting hardness of his chest, and the friction of their bodies turned her nipples into hard points.

No doubt, the dragonman would use her body’s betrayal against her.

The only saving grace was she felt his hard cock poking against her stomach. Despite his earlier comments about humans, Tristan MacLeod could be aroused by one. Maybe she could use that to her advantage later.

The moment her feet touched the ground, the dragonman released his hold on her body and moved away as if he’d been burned. The mixture of irritation and disgust in his eyes poked at her self-esteem.

Melanie kept her head held high. She knew she wasn’t one of the stick thin models who had to watch every damn thing they ate, but she wasn’t unhealthy. She cooked everything from scratch and enjoyed her near-daily walks. If he didn’t like what he saw, too bad. She wasn’t about to let this bastard chip away at her hard-earned self-esteem.

Not caring if her mouth got her in trouble, she said, “Stop treating and eying me like a piece of meat.”

“Why? You’re the one who offered your body to a stranger.”

“To save my brother. That makes the world of difference.”

He looked unconvinced. “Rationalize all you like, I don’t care. All that matters is that your body reacts to mine, which means I won’t have to try too hard to get you naked.”

“Why, because you’re fit? Just because you’re tall, dark, and muscled doesn’t mean anything. You’re mean, cruel, and rude. And that’s not attractive.”

“Your nipples say differently.” He turned and walked the last few paces to the door. “Now, that’s enough. It’s time to meet my clan leader.”

He knocked, opened the door, and entered the stone cottage, leaving her to stand by herself. A few of the dragon-shifters had been watching her exchange with Tristan, and they continued to stare at her. Her cheeks flushed as she realized what they must’ve overheard.

Great way to make a first impression, Hall.
But she couldn’t help it. Tristan was like a lighter for her temper.

She took a deep breath and exhaled before she headed for the open cottage door. If she tried hard enough, she might do a better job of making a good impression with Stonefire’s leader. Considering she would need his approval to do any sort of write-up about his clan, she needed to temporarily put aside her issues with Tristan and morph back into the pleasant, friendly young woman she was with most people.

Inside the cottage was a large room with a desk in the far corner. Sitting at the desk was another huge, muscled man with a tattoo snaking out from under his t-shirt, signaling he was a dragon-shifter. Soon she might get the chance to see what the dragon-shifter tattoos looked like—with Tristan, at least—without a shirt getting in the way.

Speaking of the bastard, Tristan was already at the desk and speaking in a language she didn’t understand. It didn’t sound like French, German, or Spanish. Maybe the dragons had their own language, but much like what had happened to Gaelic in Scotland, it had mostly died out over the years and been replaced with English.

To avoid being completely disrespectful to Stonefire’s leader, Mel kept quiet as she approached the desk. When she finally stood next to Tristan, the leader stopped talking and fixed her with a stare.

His eyes were a deep blue that pierced right to her soul. She didn’t think she could lie to the dragonman, given the chance. While she’d had no problem speaking her mind with Tristan, everything about the man behind the desk suggested she’d better keep quiet if she knew what was good for her.

Without moving his blue gaze from hers, the leader stood up and said, “My name is Bram Moore-Llewellyn.”