Ellora's Cavemen: Tales from the Temple II (21 page)

The thunderous footsteps seemed to echo as they approached. Eleanora listened as tree branches snapped and leaves crunched beneath the power of the beast that made its way to the sacrificial site. Perspiration formed on her hands as they remained tethered in place. She was prepared for whatever the fates had deemed would be her destiny. As the dragon approached, she raised her chin, willing herself to face her death as her sisters had faced theirs. If only she could be the last sacrifice, a guarantee that the villagers would no longer strive to sate the dragon’s blood lust.

The dragon crouched before her and let out a piercing growl, forcing her to flinch, her bravery fleeing. A slow chill crept up her back as her eyes ran over the dragon’s frame. He was no bigger than a man, but his domineering presence in the clearing was enough to make that chill break into a full-blown shudder. She had never seen a dragon at such close range and had no idea what to expect of him. This was certainly not it.

Still, he was commanding enough to make her rethink her plan of attack, which was to use magick to free herself and render him helpless. She cringed when she caught sight of his tail, which swished like a cat’s and was double the length of his body. The tail looked harmless at first glance, but the spines there were known for the poison they injected into his victims. Her hands clutched into fists as she contemplated her best plan of attack. A wave of nausea threatened to overtake her. In spite of her trepidation, she was held spellbound by the strength of his frame.

She raked her eyes over his scaly body and bit her lip as she raised her head, daring to look at his face. The profile was almost human, but there was nothing human about the way he lingered over her body, prepared to make her his latest meal as his hot breath swept across her face.

The howl echoed once more, conjuring tremors throughout her body, but his approach ceased when he lifted his head to sniff the air as if he sensed someone else here. Her hands froze, and her entire body stood stock-still. The dragon caught her eyes only for a second, but she felt the image of raw pain that reflected in those gray pools.

He turned and flicked his tail back and forth before he pounced.

127

Alicia Sparks

The dragon covered her body as he let out a howl that sounded like pain. Eleanora tried to steady her breathing, tried to recover from her moment in the dragon’s eyes, but her body refused to cooperate. She should act now and save herself, but her arms wouldn’t move. The piercing sound of the dragon’s roar forced her into action. The jolt of electricity that shot through her body at the sound of his cry was enough to move her once-frozen limbs.

The words were said in an instant, almost before she could think her way through the spell. As soon as they fled her lips, the shackles fell to the ground, releasing her from her temporary prison. Only now, two dragons hindered her move toward safety.

Her passage was blocked as the black one, the one whose eyes she had seen so clearly. Then the red one advanced, charging forward, challenging the black one for dominance. Eleanora was trapped, unable to move between or around the dragons, unable to save herself. Cowering to the ground, Eleanora lay spellbound as the black dragon covered her body, protecting her from the fury of the red.

In the next seconds, the black let out a howl and blood flowed from the long razor cuts along its back. It circled around the red, the two looking like wild animals challenging one another for a meal. She swallowed hard. If they sensed she was still here in the darkness, neither gave notice.

She drew in her breath, once more determined to end the wreckage brought upon her village by the dragons. Every ounce of courage she may have had hours ago died inside her as she contemplated her approach. Two ferocious beasts fought just a few yards away from her. And never before had she felt as inconsequential as she did at this moment.

Then, at the last moment, the red dragon misjudged. He caught sight of her, distracting him enough to give the black an advantage. Bleeding, howling in pain, the black leapt, sinking his teeth into the jugular.

The red didn’t fall as she expected. She knew dragons must lose much more blood than a shallow cut could render. And they healed more quickly than humans. But the black hadn’t given up his quest. Eleanora’s eyes widened as he leapt once more, this time practically ripping the vein from his opponent’s neck.

The black turned now, having worn the red to weakness. The red lay in a heap under the moonlight, his blood already ceasing to flow. Before she had time to react, everything went black.

* * * * *

Eleanora trembled, thinking that she must be dead. The last thing she remembered before the blackness engulfed her was the flash of red hair and the sting of the dragon’s tail as it pierced her skin, biting into her shoulder. The red hair hadn’t belonged to the dragon, whose flesh was as black as the night. And it wasn’t her own—unless…

She lifted a weakened hand to her hair, wondering if it had been covered with blood. Her eyes slowly opened, peering at the night sky between the veil of 128

Dragon’s Law: Mace

consciousness and unconsciousness. How long had she been out? The dragon that threatened to suck her blood from her body would return to finish the deed.

She tried to sit up, only to be assaulted by a weak dizziness. She reminded herself to move slowly, take shallow breaths, gain control of her body before she attempted to escape the clearing and hide in the woods. She began by flexing her toes and then her feet, satisfied that her body was still intact. The sensation moved up her legs until, finally, she lifted her neck without waves of nausea consuming her.

Bracing herself, raising up to a sitting position, she waited for the ground to stop spinning. What in the name of the gods had happened here tonight? It took a second for her heart to stop its hammering in her chest and slow to a steady rhythm as she remembered. The two dragons had fought for dominance, and she had, apparently, been spared.

She stretched her arms over her head. The movement wasn’t the graceful cat-like movement it would have been if she were waking from a nice, long slumber. Her thin arms seemed to glow beneath the moonlight as the eclipse ended and the light moon once more peeked its head out. Eleanora brushed her long dark hair off her shoulders, wishing she had something to tie it out of the way. Her body refused to move, her motions pained, contrived, and her shoulder ached as her blood pounded in her skull.

Why hadn’t she died?

Her first attempt to stand made a wave of nausea hit her once more. She rolled onto her stomach in hopes of coming up onto her knees first and then moving from there. It was then that she saw the possessor of the red hair from her earlier memory.

The man was maybe a foot from where she lay. His head almost touched hers, and his masses of blood-red hair resembled a pool of the precious liquid on the ground. Had Eleanora not been close enough to touch the silky strands, she would have assumed it was his life’s essence poured out onto the dirt. As it was, the sight was frightening enough. He didn’t move as she reached for him.

She adjusted her body, crawling the two paces to his side. Her breath caught in her throat and her hand went to her chest, covering her heart. She hadn’t prepared herself for the sight.

An audible gasp caught in her throat as he groaned. Thank the gods, he lived! His badly scarred body was covered with dried blood, none of which was hers. A gash at his neck proved his battle, which must have taken place in order to save her from the dragons that threatened certain death between their teeth. He must be the reason the dragons had given up their quest. The thought alone made her heart swell, but it also caused other sensations she couldn’t define yet, sensations that were heightened by his nakedness.

He was beautifully, gloriously naked. Her eyes roamed across his bare torso—taut, tanned, firm. They went to his perfectly formed pectorals as her fingers ached to run along his flesh. They strayed next to his member, his, his…
manhood
. She tore her eyes 129

Alicia Sparks

from that part of his body before she could define the sensations it stirred, before she licked her lips and wondered…

No one had ever fought for her before.

Before tonight, there had been no need to protect her life save for the fact that she was destined to be a dragon’s sacrifice, just like her sisters before her. The village men knew this and therefore had never lifted a hand to aid her in any of her misadventures.

Only this man, this stranger, had come to her aid. Surely he was knight, though she had never seen him before. He certainly could not be from Waydon.

The wound on her shoulder pulsed as she feared the dragon’s poison had made its way into her system. Rather than weakening her as she thought it should, it somehow caused her heart to quicken, her senses to awaken. Desires she had never before known surfaced all at once. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch the man’s flesh. She wanted to run her hands all over him. Instead, she placed a hand on his hard chest, feeling for a heartbeat. Her hand instantly jerked away, seared by the heat from his body. The fever had entered and would kill him if she didn’t do something to lower it.

Eleanora knew she wasn’t much use to the villagers. She was a half-wit when it came to herbal remedies. Even though she was being trained as a healer, it wasn’t her gift. Her older sister held the gift, but her life was taken from her too soon by a dragon.

Still, to honor her memory and take her place in her community, she forced herself to attempt the arts. Even if she did nothing but annoy Liesel, the high priestess and healer.

She wrung her hands, frantically searching for an answer to her dilemma. The man was so large, she doubted she could move him alone. And she had nowhere to take him. If she returned to the village, she would surely be exiled for not fulfilling her destiny at the ends of the dragon’s talons. If they stayed here, in the clearing, he would likely die.

She had no choice but to take him to Liesel’s empty cottage, which was far enough from the rest of the village to serve as a means of protection from both the villagers and future dragons. She hoped.

Pulling herself up to standing position and contemplating the man on the ground, she knew he couldn’t possibly walk. He was feverish and mumbling in a language she couldn’t understand. She bent over to lift him, pulling at his injured shoulders. When he let out a howl in his sleep, she knew she couldn’t move him. Not like this, anyway.

She wiped her sweaty palms onto the skirt of her dress. Minutes ago, she’d survived a dragon attack. Surely, she could save a man.

He was heavier than she’d imagined. Still, he was somewhat responsive as she hauled him, using her upper body to brace him while she moved him forward. He groaned low and long as they proceeded through the dense woods to the cabin. When she dumped him onto the low mattress, curses spilled from his lips and his skin flamed.

She knew she must bring his fever down or he would suffer the brain disease. And then he would die.

130

Dragon’s Law: Mace

Something in her gut protested this notion. She would not allow him to die. It didn’t matter what she must do to keep him alive, she vowed to do it.

She gathered her long, messy hair into a mass on top of her head and stuck a few of Liesel’s pins into it to hold it in place. Then she began her labors on the patient. First she cleaned his wounds, starting with the most severe one on his neck.

As she worked, she tried not to think about running her hands along his flesh or the heat that was now radiating down from her shoulder and into her chest. She had heard tales of the poison dragons injected into their victims and had no idea what to expect from the small gash on her shoulder.

She dipped the sponge into the herbal diffusion she’d put together. The sweet smell from the herbs hit her nostrils at once. When it mixed with his manly scent, it was enough to make her hand shake. She squeezed out the excess solution and then ran the sponge slowly along his face.

His nose was pointed, aristocratic. It gave way to a perfectly sculpted square jaw.

His eyes were wide-set. She wondered what color they were as she ran the sponge along his commanding forehead. She tried not to look at his lips when she traced the sponge along his jaw line. Beautiful, full, perfect lips. They tormented her, making her wonder for the first time ever how it would feel to kiss a man.

She shook the thought from her head and let the sponge trail down his neck. He had a long, thick neck that melted into the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen. His battle-scarred chest was smooth, hairless. Waiting to be explored. She sucked in her breath, letting her gaze and hands stray further down to his belly.

It
lay right there, solid as a stone, pressing against his belly. She tried not to look at it, but her eyes couldn’t stay away. She had never seen a naked man before, but her instincts told her this one was not like the rest. His member was large, demanding her attention. The hood that normally lay over it was stretched, thanks to his state of…
arousal
?

She brought the sponge down to his legs, first one then the other, her eyes never leaving his
thing
. Her fingers brushed against the light covering of hair on his massive thighs. She closed her eyes to the sensation, embarrassed when a tiny moan escaped her lips. She imagined those powerful thighs lying on top of her while the other…

Eleanora stopped. He was wounded. Her patient. She must remember that.

Still, as she washed his feet, her eyes continued to stray to the mass of blood-red curls beckoning her. Making her wonder how
it
would feel.

She knew about mating. Knew that it was necessary to maintain the race. But ever since she and her sisters were chosen for the dragons, she knew mating would never be hers. She would never know the touch of a man’s skin against her own, the feel of a kiss. The heat of…oh, gods! The heat.