The Dragon’s Mage dm-1 Read online

  The Dragon’s Mage

  ( Dragon Mage - 1 )

  Kelly Lucille

  A Fantasy Menage (MFM) story with elements of shapeshifting.

  A Dragon always recognizes his mate.

  When a young dragon is betrayed and left to die among the humans, and a pretty mage in hiding sacrifices herself to save her family, both end up in the hands of the magnull. Morgan is drawn to the sick young man and recognizes he is dragon in human form. Determined their captors would not kill such a creature she hides what he is until she can give him what he needs: The magic in her blood. The dragon does escape but he takes Morgan with him.

  Fearful of taking his frail human mate home while his betrayer is still masked, he decides to call on the help of their most dangerous Dragon.

  After a Dragon has reached adulthood very little can kill him except loneliness and Despair. This dragon, the oldest unmated dragon alive, is known as the Dragon Executioner. He is Eben Kinkaid. While Ladon is going through his Molt (his transition into adult status) he wants Eben to protect his mage.

  Though Eben thinks Ladon foolish to believe a human could be a dragon’s mate, he has been too long without hope and must see for himself. He meets Morgan and recognizes her for what she is: The mate he has been waiting for.

  Morgan, determined to get back to her young siblings before they run into trouble, is not exactly thrilled to be claimed as a dragon’s mate. Only now she has two to contend with; two incredibly dangerous dragon men who can heat her up with one look from dragon gold eyes.

  Mated to two dragons, her powers over the elements and her longevity are enhanced by dragon fire. Now they must face a powerful dark mage to rescue her family, and if that's not enough, they still have to find the dragon who betrayed Ladon to the humans.

  All of this while dealing with a mating heat that burns hotter than dragon fire.

  The Dragon’s Mage

  Dragon Mage - 1

  by

  Kelly Lucille

  To Norma Rice for gleefully buying my first book,

  …and because she’ll get such a kick out of this.

  "All our efforts must tend towards the light."

  Antonio Machado

  Chapter 1

  Morgan was in the meadow laughing when she felt it. Her eight-year-old brother with the same dark hair and grass green eyes was buried under two of his sisters. The girls shared the eyes, but had their mother’s fiery red gold hair that flashed in the sun. Currently they were rolling about like puppies and shrieking in fright as Morgan pretended to be a great hernbeast after them. In the middle of tickling Clare to hysterics, she stopped, a strange awareness creeping up. Something was coming.

  “Danger.” She said quickly. Her siblings, from the youngest at eight summers to the oldest at nineteen, all froze and looked to her.

  “Up. Quietly.” She said, “Quietly. Melly can you sense anything?” She was whispering now and all of them were staying low to the grasses and heading for the tree line.

  “Nothing.” Melisande whispered, Melly for short. She was five years younger than Morgan and six inches shorter at five feet two inches. She had always been the calm center of the family. She moved with the rest of them, keeping her head down even as she expanded her senses. “I don’t sense any danger.”

  “Something isn't right.”

  As slow as they were moving they made small progress but should attract no attention. It wasn’t enough. She extended her own senses and felt nothing except a prevailing feeling of wrongness. Something was out there, and coming closer.

  “Clare, you and Rhune, change and head for the hide hole. Small but not helpless. I don’t want a repeat of the badger incident.”

  “What about you and Melly? I don’t want to leave you here.”

  “Rhune is your responsibility. Go Clare. We’ll be right behind you.”

  Clare looked from her sisters to her baby brother and stiffened her back. She was only 16 years old and resembled a long limbed colt with her slender form and long legs. She was young and unfinished still but, like Melly, life had somehow made her more. She turned to her brother who was leaning against her side.

  “Foxes, Rhune.” She said overly bright. “Stay with me? We’re going to run for the big oak.”

  Rhune nodded solemnly. His little face serious for one so young. Clare looked one more time at her sisters before she dissolved into a chilly mist and in her place stood a red fox. Rhune followed, and they took off at a run, silent red flashes through the tall grasses.

  “Are you sure Morgan? I still feel nothing.”

  “I know Melly, that’s what worries me.” She looked around as she pushed her sister before her. “It’s getting closer.”

  In the past, it had always been Melisande who felt trouble coming first. She dreamed of their adoptive parent’s betrayal, and when they ran, she felt the right paths to take them away from danger. They had come into the wilderness when Rhune was so small he had to be carried, and Melly a thirteen year old at the time had heard the wind and headed the call of the earth. It was no small gift. Nor was the ability that Clare and Rhune had to become any animal they saw. That too had saved their lives on too many occasions for Morgan to believe it the curse the villagers feared.

  “Someone is coming, and I think they’re coming for me. I want you to take the long way back to the others. I’ll make a mist for you to hide in.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll follow soon. Promise me you will see the others to safety. Listen to the wind Melly, and you’ll do fine.” The sky darkened and the perpetual spring they had been enjoying disappeared as clouds obscured the sun.

  “We should stay together.”

  “No. I need you safe. Please, Melly. I feel strange, hunted. Something is taking shape here. A path I must take. If I'm right, you must protect the others. You’re the only one who can hear the wind.”

  “Morgan.” Her voice was beseeching, but Morgan ignored it, closing her eyes and setting her will free. The mist rose, and like a massive fog it covered and concealed everything so that the sisters could no longer see even each other in the thick of it.

  “Go to Clare, Melly, now.”

  Melly went, ignoring the tears falling from her eyes. Quiet as possible she walked out of the glen they had created with their magic. It had been spring here for them as long as they needed it. Surrounded by white coated winter on all sides, no one should have been able to survive. Between them, they had kept their own small patch of sunshine and Morgan had made the flowers grow. The majestic oak had offered shelter. They had been happy here. Now danger had found them.

  Morgan expanded her senses and felt Melly slipping into the forest to safety. She breathed a sigh of relief, turning to look all around her she tried again to capture the essence of what was stalking her. Whatever it was, her blood seemed to be trying to rise up and warn her. ‘Run. Flee.’ It was all she could do to stand perfectly still and listen for the sound that would direct her flight away from the oily danger.

  Through the mist a dark figure rose nearly on top of her, she backed up quickly her hand coming up, the wind roaring as she stumbled back and to the ground. Her wrist was caught by a hard-calloused hand, and she was pulled off the ground struggling against the arms that came around her. The mist cleared away, and the wind died. She knew that black livery with the dog emblem, knew too, ones with cold dead eyes that stared with evil satisfaction. Only one kind of creature could touch her and make her power disappear. It was a creature right out of her nightmares.

  She screamed, hearing again the cries of her mother and father as the fires burned around them.

  “I’ve been looking for you.” He kissed her, and she tasted ash. She tried to
struggle, call her power, but nothing happened. Then she felt it. A pulling, as if he was trying to eat her soul. She tried to scream again, the pain excruciating, but he ate that too.

  * * *

  The creak and moan of the prison wagon was loud in the early morning quiet. Even at rest, it groaned like an old man each time someone rolled over or breathed hard. Morgan had been left with her now grubby shift and a chain for her ankle. The leering guard made it clear that anything else she wanted would have to be paid for, and the way his eyes went over her, Morgan had a pretty clear idea what form of payment he preferred.

  The shift was little enough against the harsh weather, though luckily she still had enough magic huddled inside her that she barely noticed. At first, she hoped this meant she hadn't been utterly cut off from her magic; but as many times as she tried to pull her power, she only managed to give herself head pains.

  Changes in weather never affected her as it did others. She didn’t get cold or hot as a rule, but the boy/man clinging to her was shaking so bad she was surprised the cart was holding together. She had realized within seconds what he was, and could only surmise, given the lack of precautions that the guards had no idea what they had. She held him as close throughout the night and waited for her chance.

  The guard, a big beefy man that smelled like old sweat, was a little too interested in watching her to give them the small moment they needed. She waited for him to fall asleep or go relieve himself. If he would just look away long enough, it would be done.

  Blood and Sex. Her mother, a mage healer, had said little about dragons the few years she'd had to train her children in the craft, but she did say they could feed on blood and sex for healing. Well, she would try blood and hope it helped enough for him to escape. His life was worth nothing if they realized what he was. Dragons were killed on sight. Their blood called a high price in magic circles, but it was nearly impossible to survive the attempt to collect it.

  Magnulls had no effect on dragon magic. Under the circumstances, she couldn’t help envying them that.

  When the guard finally nodded off with the dawn, Morgan found again the rusty nail poking out under her shoulder. She used it to prick her finger, then bent back to the dragon.

  He should have looked pathetic curled up in her lap trying to find heat. One of the few things that could kill dragons was the cold, and that only before they reached their first adult molt. That would put him at less than two hundred in years, but looking at his well-defined musculature and the fact that he topped her by a solid foot and probably a hundred pounds, she figured he was close to the change. She hoped not too close. He would never survive the transition away from his own.

  Her mother had been abundantly clear about that. She was not sure what the dragons might need, only that it was something that could not be found outside Dracon.

  If he was not at the bridge to his adult life then a little magical blood should set him to rights, at least enough so that he could escape and get himself somewhere safe. Mage blood was tremendously powerful when given freely and dragons were especially affected. Her mother had cautioned that the giving of blood should only be done in the strictest emergency, never lightly; this had to qualify.

  Morgan took a deep breath. If he was truly power-starved, this could go badly for her. But she would rather die helping someone than beneath the knife of a dark mage. She pulled his head up from where it lay against her breast with one hand while she shoved her bleeding finger into his mouth. At the first taste of blood, he clamped down. It stung even before he bit to hold her finger in place. She did her best to stifle her whimpers and the nearly unbearable need to shake him loose. He was taking a lot of blood through one small finger. It wasn’t enough because he reared back and bit into her wrist. She couldn’t stop the cry of pain when his teeth sank deep, and it woke the sleeping guard.

  “What...” The guard made the mistake of attempting to pull the dragon off. He was slammed one handed into the iron bars of the cage. He slumped to the deck below the dent his head had made. He wouldn't get up again. His head had cracked like an egg, and the noise had drawn a crowd.

  The twenty or so soldiers that had been left to hold the caravan, while the magnulls went into town to collect any stray magic users, pulled their swords. The man/boy looked at the soldiers surrounding the prison cart with eyes of dragon gold. He dropped Morgan’s wrist with a final lick and studied her through glowing eyes. She was light headed from blood loss.

  “Go dragon.” She said with difficulty. “Before they come for you.”

  “You know what I am?” He began to change before her eyes. Morgan’s last thought before she passed out was silly under the circumstances.

  He seemed smaller when he was asleep.

  Chapter 2

  Morgan woke up with no idea where she was. She lay very still even as she recognized the feel of a body shivering against her back. She could feel the length of chain against her ankle, and for a moment she was sure she’d failed. She wanted to cry for them both. Then she realized the length of chain attached to air, and this was not the prison coach.

  She opened up her senses and felt magic breathe through her. They were in a cave. She could sense no one else around. They must have traveled a substantial distance from the magnulls for her magic to return. How had he managed to carry them both so far in his sad shape?

  No wonder he was wracked with shivers again. Between the shapeshifting and the flight he must have used up all the energy he received from her blood. She turned over as best she could with the dragon holding her in a vise.

  Morgan put her hand up and reached for the magic within her. Fire flared in her hand, healing the ugly bite on her wrist even as the dragon opened his eyes. They were a cool ice blue that quickly changed to dragon gold as she watched. His hands uncurled from her body with an effort and cupped the flame as if he would pull it into himself. When he was not burned, she upped the wattage and pressed it into his bare chest. He gasped and arched in pleasure/pain as his body absorbed the heat flowing from her power. When he had taken all he could, the excess sunk into the rock beneath him. She halted the flow. He purred and curled up like a lizard in the sun. He was asleep again, but this time without the life sucking cold making it unnatural.

  Morgan got up and headed for the cave opening, worried he had not come far enough in his weak condition. A hand whipped out and wrapped around her ankle before she could take two steps. She stumbled, almost fell, but managed to catch herself. She turned; his eyes were open, burning gold under his matted waves of hair.

  “You will not leave.”

  Morgan shook her foot, but he just tightened his grip. “I’m not leaving. I just want to see where we are.”

  “We are north of the Coban River in the deep mountains. You are safe here.” She tried to hide her dismay. He had brought her at least a seven-day walk from her valley. On one hand, there was no way the magnulls would find them, on the other; she was farther away from her brother and sisters than she had ever been.

  “I also need to use the bathroom and find something to eat and drink.”

  “I have prepared an area at the back of the cave for your needs. Tomorrow I will be rested and able to fly further. I will find you food. You will not leave my side.”

  “That’s...Nice of you. I appreciate that you freed me, so thanks, but I rescued you first, so we’re even. Tomorrow you should continue your journey home, and I’ll do the same.”

  He let go of her ankle to stand up, and Morgan was happy to see he rose easily and was steady on his feet. At least she was until he stood to his full six-foot plus height and looked down at her with eyes of power. Her belly rolled dizzily when she got her first real look at the dragon she had set free.

  He obviously reacted well to either her blood or her fire because all his bruising was gone. He was young, even in the woven slave trousers and with a filthy nest of hair tangled to his waist, he was beautiful. From the sharp almost alien angles of his face to his finely
honed body he was, in a word, dangerous. Morgan caught her breath, fighting the need to step back. Showing weakness to a dragon would be a mistake. She stood her ground and met his golden stare with challenge.

  “How did they catch you?”

  His jaw locked. “I was betrayed.”

  She dropped her eyes not wanting him to see her compassion and mistake it for pity. She was all too familiar with betrayal. “I’m sorry.”

  His hand gripped her chin lightly, pulling her eyes back up to his. “How did they catch you?”

  She debated telling him but saw no danger in it, a dragon would never work with a dark mage, and he needed to know why she was not free to go with him.

  “They came to our valley, and I stayed to give my family a chance to get away. The magnull took my power, and I was caught.”

  His hand tightened painfully on her chin making her wince.

  “Your family? You had a mate who allowed you to face this danger alone?”

  “Oww.” She tried to pull out of his hurtful grip, but he wouldn’t budge. “I have no mate.” She said, the angry fire behind her eyes sparking. “My young sisters and brother are my only family, and it is my duty to see them safe.”

  He released her chin and snatched up a lock of her hair to rub between his fingers. His voice had lost the anger but not the heat. “I am sorry little one. You are too young and soft to have such responsibilities. You will be better off with me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You will not leave my side, and I will see to your care.”

  Morgan opened her mouth to rage at his arrogance but swallowed it back and attempted reason instead. “I am a mage. I can take care of myself and my family.” She took a deep breath and grudgingly added, “I do appreciate your worry for me, but it is not necessary.”

  She stepped away from him, turning once again, to head for the cave mouth. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back.