The Dragon Legion Collection(46)

But Petra had been trapped here. He felt a pang of sympathy for her.

In fact, the first sight of her, round with his son, had shaken him. She’d always been lovely and had always had lush curves. But pregnancy had ripened her in a way that made Damien remember very well all the pleasure they’d had creating that son. The strange blue-green light of the darkfire had flattered her in a way he hadn’t expected, drawing him closer, making him want to caress and seduce her all over again.

He saw the darkfire crackle along the ground ahead of him, illuminating this dark and dreary realm. It flared up suddenly in front of Petra, almost like an explosion. He shouted a warning but she didn’t stop. Damien tried to run faster even as she stepped right into the brilliance and disappeared.

Damien cried her name in horror. He feared the worst, although when he thought about it, he couldn’t think of what would be worse for her than being dead. He passed into the light of the darkfire, feeling a shiver pass over his flesh at its cold touch.

And then, he was surrounded by the past.



Damien had just stepped into a tavern, taking shelter from the night along with Orion. The cool of a winter evening was at his back. Inside the tavern was a crowd of people, laughter and food.

And music.

The music had drawn them, turning their steps in this direction like a spell of enchantment. Now, surrounded by the glow of candlelight, Damien stood in silence and stared.

A gorgeous woman played the lyre in the middle of the tavern, to the obvious delight of the people listening. She evidently played a familiar song, for they all knew the words and sang along. A plump man who had to be the proprietor stood by the door to the kitchen, smiling with satisfaction.

Orion heaved a sigh of satisfaction. “Finally, a decent meal and some good company.”

“I’m not such bad company as that,” Damien retorted and Orion grinned.

“You could be the most beautiful woman in the world, and after a month in your company alone, I’d still be ready for a change.”

Damien laughed, unable to be insulted. “That’s the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said, gesturing to the musician. “It would take more than a month for me to tire of her companionship.”

Orion might have replied in kind, but as Damien gestured, a spark lit at the end of his finger. The brilliant orange light flared, arching across the room to land on the musician’s parted lips.

She gasped in wonder.

She considered him.

Then her eyes lit and she smiled.

“The firestorm,” Orion said, a tinge of jealousy in his tone. “You’ll satisfy it in a night, won’t you?” he teased. “Never linger.”

“Lingering only builds expectations,” Damien replied softly, his gaze fixed on the woman who could bear his son. His blood fired in anticipation of the night they’d share. “And the firestorm is extinguished as soon as it’s satisfied. One night is all it will take.”

She ended the tune, stilling the strings of the lute with one hand as her audience applauded. There were calls for drinks and food that sent the proprietor scurrying, but the woman immediately began to play another song.

It was a love song, low and seductive, the words sending a pulse of heat through Damien.

Or maybe it was the way she sang the song to him that fired his blood. Damien stood utterly still, his gaze locked with hers, as her song filled the tavern. Her voice was so rich and pure that she might have been born of the gods. He heard the rapturous sigh of one of the patrons. Damien was barely aware of Orion clapping him on the shoulder, then pushing him forward. He took one step and then another, moving closer to the beguiling beauty who sang just for him.

With every step, the heat of the firestorm burned brighter. With every step, he heard her song more clearly and was more smitten. Her eyes were darker than dark, filled with a thousand lights. They tipped up slightly at the outer corners, giving her an exotic appearance, and her ripe red lips seemed to caress each syllable of the song as the words spilled forth. Her hair was long and dark and wavy, hanging past her hips in flowing ebony. Her skin was so fair that it might have been carved of ivory, and the contrast made her even more strikingly attractive.

She wore a chiton of fine white cloth that was cut full, then tied at her narrow waist with a gold cord. She was curvaceous, her breasts enough to fill his hands, her waist narrow, her hips sweetly curved. She danced barefoot, the glimpses of her feminine feet beneath the hem of her tunic making Damien’s pulse pound in his ears. Her tunic was hemmed in golden embroidery and the light played with the thread, making her look like a precious gem.

His gem. His mate. The firestorm told no lie. This was the woman who could bear Damien’s son, and he wasn’t going to bypass the opportunity.


He was going to make the most of it.

And he’d be gone in the morning.

The way she sang for him, her eyes dancing and her smile drawing him closer, told him that she liked what she saw, as well. It wasn’t just the light that burned brighter between them with every step he took closer—it was the desire that surged through his body with greater demand. By the time he halted before her, he was burning for her, determined to woo her in bed, to make this night a night that neither would ever forget.

He was captivated by her dark eyes, her knowing smile, her grace and her lovely voice. The song could have lasted a lifetime or the duration of a single heartbeat. Damien didn’t know or care. There was only the musician and her song.