Dragonswan

Page 8

As they drew near the hall's door, she could hear the music and laughter from inside as the people ate their supper. Sebastian opened the door and allowed her to en­ter first.
Channon hesitated in the doorway as she looked around in awe. It was more splendid than anything she'd ever imagined.
A lord's table was set apart from the others, and there were three women and four men seated there. The man with the crown she assumed was the king, the lady at his right, his queen, and the others must be the daughters and sons or some other dignitaries perhaps.
Servants bustled around with food while dogs milled about, catching scraps from the diners. The music was sublime.
"Nervous?" Sebastian asked her in modern English.
"A little. I have no idea what Saxon etiquette is."
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, causing a warm chill to sweep through her. "Follow my lead, and I will show you everything you need to know to live in my world."
She cocked her brow at his words. There was some­thing hidden in that. She was sure of it. "You are going to take me home at the next full moon, right?"
"I gave you my word, my lady. That is the one thing I have never broken, and I most assuredly would not break my oath to you."
"Just checking."
A hush fell over the crowd as they crossed the room and neared the lord's table.
Channon swallowed nervously. But she was there with the most handsome man in the kingdom. Dressed in his black armor and mask, Sebastian was a spectacularly mas­culine sight. The man had a regal presence that promised strength, speed, and deadly precision.
He stopped before the table and gave a low, courtly bow. Channon gave what she hoped was an acceptable curtsy.
"Greetings, Your Majesty," Sebastian said, straighten­ing. "I am Sebastian Kattalakis, a Prince of Arcadia."
Channon's jaw went slack with that declaration. A prince? Was he for real or was it another joke?
He turned to her, his features guarded. "My lady, Chan­non."
The king rose to his feet and bowed to them. "Your Highness, it has been a long time since I've had the priv­ilege of a dragon slayer's company. I owe your house more than I can ever repay. Please, come and be seated in honor. You and your lady-wife are welcomed here for as long as you wish to stay."
Sebastian led Channon to the table and sat her to his right, beside a man who introduced himself as the king's son-in-law.
"Are you really a prince?" she whispered to Sebastian.
"A most disinherited one, but yes. My grandfather, Ly-caon, was the King of Arcadia."
"Oh my God," Channon said as pieces of history came together in her mind. "The king cursed by Zeus?"
"And the Fates."
Lycanthrope, the Greek word for werewolves, vam­pires, and shape-shifters, was taken from Lycaon, the King of Arcadia. Stunned, she wondered what other so-called myths and legends were actually real.
"You know, you are better than the Rosetta stone to a historian."
Sebastian laughed. "Glad to know 1 have some use to you."
More than he knew—and it wasn't just the knowledge he held. Today was the only day she could recall in an exceptionally long time when she hadn't been lonely. Not once. She'd enjoyed every minute of this day and didn't really want it to end.
She looked forward to spending the next few weeks with Sebastian in his world. And deep inside where she best not investigate was a part of her that wondered if, when the time came, she'd be able to leave him.
How could a woman give up a man who made her feel the way Sebastian did every time he looked at her?
She wasn't sure it was possible.
Sebastian cut and served her from the roast of some­thing she couldn't quite identify. Thinking it best not to ask, she took a bite and discovered it was quite good.
They ate in silence while others finished their meals and started dancing.
After a time, Channon glanced to Sebastian and noticed his eyes seemed troubled. "Are you all right?" she asked.
Sebastian ran his hand over the uncovered portion of his face. He felt ill inside. The harmony between his two halves had been disrupted by his inner fighting over Chan­non, and the pain of it was almost more than he could stand.
The Drakos wanted her regardless, but the man in him refused to see her endangered. The struggle between the two sides was so severe that he wondered how he was going to make it for the next three weeks without doing permanent damage to one or the other of his halves.
It was this kind of internal struggle that caused the mad­ness in their youth. And if he didn't restore the balance soon, his powers would be permanently scarred.
"Jet lag from the time-jump," he said.
Forcing the dragon back into submission, he didn't speak to Channon while she ate. He allowed her the time
to experience the life and beauty of this time without in­truding on her.
Gods, how he ached to make her stay here. He could take her right now and bind her to him for the rest of his life. It was fully within his power.
But he couldn't do that to her. The man in him refused to claim her against her will. It had to be her choice. He would never accept anything less than that.
Channon frowned as she noted the seriousness in Se­bastian's eyes. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked.
"I'm fine. Really."
She still didn't buy that. The musicians paused and the crowd clapped for them. As she applauded the musicians and dancers, Channon became aware of something on her hand. Frowning, she studied her palm. "What in the world?"
Sebastian swallowed. Up until now he'd used his pow­ers to shield her from the marking. But his powers were weakening...
She tried to rub it off. "What is this?"
He started to tell her the truth, but it wedged in his throat. She didn't need to know that. Not right now. He didn't want to destroy the fun she was having by inter­jecting such a serious topic. "It's from the time-jump," he lied. "It's nothing major."
"Oh," Channon said, dropping her hand. "Okay."
The musicians started up again. Sebastian excused him­self from her.
Channon frowned. Something in his demeanor con­cerned her.
He walked too deliberately with his spine rigid and his shoulders back.
Following after him, she watched as he left the hall and went outside. He rounded the side of the hall and headed toward a small well.
Channon stayed back while he pulled water from the
well, then removed his mask and splashed the water over his face.
"Sebastian?" she asked softly, moving to his side. 'Tell me what's wrong with you."
Sebastian raked his gloved hands through his hair, dampening it. "I'm okay, really."
"You keep saying that, but..."
She placed her hand on his arm. The sensation of her touch rocked him so fiercely that he wanted to growl from it. His body reacted viciously as desire tore through him.
The dragon snarled and circled, demanding her. Take her. Take her. Take her.
No! He would not cost her her life. He would not en­danger her.
"I shouldn't have brought you here, Channon," he said as he turned his powers inward to harness the Drakos. "I'm sorry."
She smiled at him. "Don't be. It's not turning out so badly. It's actually kind of nice here."
He shut his eyes and turned away. He had to. The beast inside was snarling again. Salivating.
Claim her.
It wanted total possession.
And so did the man.
His groin tightened even more, and he wondered how much longer he could keep that part of him leashed.
Channon saw the feral look in his eyes as he raked a ravenous look over her. Her body reacted to it with a desire so powerful that it stunned and scared her. She wanted him to look at her like that. Forever.
His breathing ragged, he cupped her face in his hands and pulled her close for a fierce kiss. Channon moaned at the raw passion she tasted as she surrendered her weight to him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his mus­cles bunch and flex. Images of last night tore through her. Again she could see his naked body moving in the moon-
light and feel him deep and hard inside her.
Sebastian growled at the taste of her, at the feel of her tongue sweeping against his. Out of his mind with the passion, he pinned her against the wall of the gate.
He wanted her no matter the consequences, no matter the time or place.
Channon felt his erection as he held her between him and the wall. As if magnetized, her hips brushed against him. She wanted to feel him inside her again. She wanted nothing between them except bare skin.
"What is it you do to me?" she breathed.
Sebastian pulled back as her words penetrated the haz­iness of his mind. Still, all he could smell was Channon. Her scent spun around his head, making him even dizzier. He dipped his head for her lips, then barely caught him­self.
Hissing, he forced himself to release her. If he kissed her again, he would take her here in the yard like an animal, without regard to her humanity, without regard for her choice.
Claiming was a special moment, and he refused to sully it like the Katagari. No, he wouldn't take her like this. Not out here where anyone could see them. He would not let the Drakos win.
"Channon," he whispered. "Please, go back inside."
Channon started to refuse, but the steeliness in his body kept her from it. "Okay," she said.
She paused at the corner of the hall and looked back at him. He was now leaning over the well with his head hung low. She didn't know what was wrong, but she was sure it wasn't good.
"Ha, take that!"
Channon turned at the sound of a child laughing. She saw the two boys with wooden swords who had been fighting Sebastian earlier. They ran across the yard.
"I will kill you, nasty dragon," one boy cried as they ran into a forge where the blacksmith cursed and chased
them out, telling the tallest that he should be home eating. She shook her head. Some things never changed, no matter the time period. Curious about what else reminded her of home, she crossed the yard.
Sebastian breathed deeply, trying to summon his powers back to him. This was not good. If he stayed around Chan-non, by the time Friday arrived, he wouldn't be able to face the Katagaria trio.
He had to have his powers back, intact and strong, which meant that he would either have to claim her or find some place safe for her to stay so that he could get distance from her.
Because if he didn't, they would both die.
"Bas?"
Sebastian looked around the yard, trying to find the source of that whispered call. It was a nickname no one had used in centuries.
Gold flashed to his right. To his shock, Damos ap­peared, then collapsed on the ground. Like a wounded animal, his brother held himself on all fours with his head hung low.
Unable to believe his eyes, Sebastian went to him. "Da­mos?"
Damos lifted his head to look at him. Instead of the hatred and disgust he expected to see, Sebastian saw only pain and guilt. "Did you get the tapestry?"
Sebastian couldn't answer as he saw his brother's face again. The two of them were almost identical in build and looks. The only real difference was in their hair color. Sebastian's hair was black while Damos's was a dark reddish-brown.
And as Sebastian looked into those eyes that were the same color as his own, the past flashed through his mind.
"You're nothing but a cowardly traitor. You've never been worth anything. I wish it had been you they tore
apart. If there were any justice, it would be you lying in the grave and not Antiphone." The cruel words echoed in his head, and even now he could feel the bite of the whip as they delivered the two hundred lashes to his back.
Battered and bloody, Sebastian had been dumped in a cesspit and left there to die or survive as he saw fit.
He'd crawled from the pit and somehow found his way into the woods, where he'd lain for days floating in and out of consciousness. To this day, he wasn't sure how he'd survived it.
"Bas!" Damos snapped, wincing from the effort as he pushed himself slowly to his feet. He staggered, and against his will, Sebastian found himself helping his brother to the well where he propped him.
Damos's long reddish-brown hair was lank and clotted with blood and snarls. His face was battered and his clothes torn. "You look like hell."
"Yeah, well, it's hard to look good when you're being tortured."
Sebastian knew that firsthand. "You escaped?"
He nodded. "Where's the tapestry?"
"It's safe."
Damos locked gazes with him. "Were you really going to trade it for me?"
"I brought it here, didn't I?"