She opened her mouth to say something, but another tug had her growling instead. “Except,” he continued, “when we mate. Then you’ll give yourself to me . . . completely. You’ll let me do whatever I want to this body. Whether human or dragon . . . because we’ll play with both, Princess. We’ll play a lot.” This time he grinned. A full grin showing beautiful white teeth and fangs as well as the handsomest human face she’d ever seen. Immediately her ni**les hardened under the robe and a sudden, hot slickness slid down between her legs. “That’s not to say you shouldn’t put up a fight every once in a while. I don’t mind a few battle scars coming from you. But in the end, so to speak, you’ll submit to me. Willingly. Happily. And with a smile on this gorgeous face. And when you rule as queen, I’ll be by your side. Your consort. Your battle-dragon. I’ll protect your throne and you with a fierceness no one has ever known. You’ll wear my mark boldly and with utter pride. Together, we’ll breed sons and daughters who will make us proud and carry on our blood line. We’ll be a mating to be feared. To be spoken of in whispers. And when we go to meet our ancestors in the next world, we’ll spend eternity together. Terrifying those who came before us.”

His other hand came up, softly caressing her cheek then slipping down her jaw, her neck, until it slid under her robe and took firm but gentle hold of her breast. “That is what we’ll do, Princess. And that is why you’ll stay.” She panted as his hand squeezed her breast, his fingers playing with her sensitive nipple.

“Because at the end of the day, you’re going to love me. I promise you that.”

His mouth hovered close to hers and she lifted her chin a bit, waiting for him to kiss her. His lips brushed over hers and then he said, “Now. Let me show you how to make boiled potatoes so we can eat.”

He released her. Just like that. She stared at him in shock as he crouched down beside the boiling pot of water. “You see,” he said calmly, “first you have to clean off the potato before you cut it up.”

And for the first time in Princess Rhiannon’s life she didn’t know whether to kill or cry. At the moment, she was certain she might do both.

Chapter 3

With a happy sigh, Rhiannon pushed the empty plate away and leaned back against the boulder. “All right,” she said while licking grease off each finger, “that was amazing.”

Bercelak smiled again and she was amazed his face hadn’t cracked. In more than seventy years, she’d never known the dragon to smile at anyone or anything. No matter what awards and treasure her mother bestowed on him or when others may have said something funny. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Princess.”

“What I don’t quite understand is . . . well . . .”

“Yes?”

“How you know so much about humans? You can cook like them. You know what they should eat. How they eat. What utensils to use.” They’d forgone the table when Bercelak couldn’t remember where he’d put it last.

Pouring more wine into her goblet, Bercelak confessed, “My father.”

She gasped. “Good gods, your father’s not a human?”

He shook his head. “Now that would be quite a trick . . . since humans and dragons can’t breed. No, Princess, he’s not human. He just prefers human company.”

“He does? Why?”

With a shrug, “I don’t know. He just does. He thinks they’re interesting. And he loves the females.”

Rhiannon shook her head and grinned. “Your father has quite a reputation.”

“Aye. That he does. And he’s damn proud of it. It’ll be interesting when you two meet.”

She looked up from her goblet of wine. “Meet? Why would we meet?”

“I have to introduce you to him before I Claim you. He’s rather insistent on some of the Old Ways.”

“I don’t want to be Claimed by you, Low Born.”

He growled. Low and deep from his chest. She ignored the odd little bumps that spread across her human skin, praying it wasn’t some kind of strange human disease.

“Stop calling me that. I do have a name.” For a brief moment, he sounded like a cranky hatchling, rather than a feared Battle Lord.

“Fine. I don’t want to be Claimed by you, Bercelak. But it’s not personal. I don’t want to be Claimed by anyone. No one has Claim on me and no one ever will.”

“But don’t you want to Claim someone? Don’t you want someone to breed with and to call your own?”

“No.”

“Not at all?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand. There is so much passion burning inside you. So much desire. I see it in your eyes. You need to release it or you’ll become . . .” He stopped speaking abruptly and looked down at his empty plate.

“Like my mother?” His eyes slowly rose up to look at her. “You fear I’ll become like her? Trust me, Low Born, I’m making sure I never become like her.”

“But you already are. As surely as you sit before me now as human. The more you harden your heart. The more you cut yourself off from everyone and everything. . . .”

“Dragons were meant to be alone.”

“No. Dragons are social. We just don’t need to spend endless amounts of time with each other like humans. But you . . . they say you go to your den and aren’t seen for years at court or anywhere else. You don’t see your kin. You’ve seen no one since the death of your father.”