The Dragon Legion Collection(77)

“Because you remember your conquests so clearly,” Nephele said with false sweetness. Nymphs were of two varieties: those who adored sex and couldn’t get enough of it, and those who chose to remain chaste. Of the first variety, the flower nymphs were notorious for being insatiable.

Nephele was one of the few nymphs who tried to keep her desires in balance without being chaste. Aura had always admired her for that and tried to strike a similar balance. She enjoyed sex enough that she wanted it to remain a special act.

She shivered in recollection of the dragon shifter’s kiss. What would it be like to be with him?

“Actually, I don’t,” admitted the flower nymph.

“If one came back, would you even know you’d seduced him before?” Nephele asked.

“Would it matter?” countered the flower nymph and Nephele shook her head.

She then returned to Arethusa’s story, pointedly turning her back on the flower nymph. “When the Earthdaughter and her mortal lover escaped from the Underworld, was Hades angry?”

Arethusa nodded. “Very! Because one of the things this man did was kill an Erinye.”

The nymphs all sat back in horror. “Which one?” Aura whispered, even though any one of them would be bad enough.

“Tisiphone!”

The nymphs gasped. This was the worst possible situation.

“And Hades pronounced his judgment. He poured the contents of his cup over Tisiphone’s body—”

“Not that vile potion,” the flower nymph said with a shudder.

“The very one,” Arethusa said before continuing. “And then he said ‘Tisiphone, the face of retaliation and the avenger of murder, take life again and exact your own vengeance upon your murderer and his kind. Pursue them through all eternity, until your thirst for revenge is sated.’”

“As if that would ever happen,” Nephele murmured and Aura nodded.

Arethusa spread her hands to finish her story. “And she changed!”

“To what?”

“To a woman with hair the color of fire.”

Nephele rolled her eyes. “You are telling a story. No one has hair of that color.”

“She did!” Arethusa protested.

“And then?” prompted the flower nymph.

“And then she disappeared.” Arethusa lifted a finger. “One of her sisters asked where she could be found and Hades said ‘You all three have walked in whichever realm you chose. Tisiphone will live only in the realm of the living until her vengeance is served.’ He looked at the man before this last bit. ‘She will strike among the living, even as she abides in secret. His kind will never know of her vendetta until her vengeance is served.’”

Nephele shuddered. “You have to feel sorry for him. Imagine being responsible for bringing a curse like that down on all mortal men.”

“But he wasn’t a mortal man, not really!” Arethusa crowed. Her audience regarded her in bewilderment. “He changed into a dragon and they flew out of the Underworld, right through the crack in the world that the Earthdaughter made.”

Aura gasped, even as Nephele shook her head in skepticism.

The flower nymph made a little purr in her throat. “A man who could become a dragon. I’d like to seduce one of them.”

“Surprise,” Nephele muttered.

“Wait,” Aura said. “Did either of them talk about a firestorm?”

It was Arethusa’s turn to stare. “If they did, I didn’t understand. What’s a firestorm?”

“And how do you know anything about it?” the flower nymph demanded, her eyes bright.

Aura might have explained, but she felt a delicious sensation of heat slide through her body in that moment. Sure enough, she glanced down at her hand to find a glow emanating from the tips of her fingers. She turned to face the source of the heat, just in time to see a black dragon fly through the low hanging fog over the glade. His eyes were brilliant gold and he breathed a stream of fire when his gaze locked upon her.


“Mother of Zeus,” the flower nymph whispered, fanning herself as she stared in awe.

“How could anyone follow us here?” Nephele said, sparkling silver as she changed to a cloud before Aura’s very eyes. The cloud that was Nephele rose high, but didn’t go through the mist.

No, Nephele would want to watch.

“I know that look,” Arethusa muttered. “He might be a dragon, but he’s after the same thing they all are.” Without waiting for agreement, she dove into the pool of water created by the glade. The surface of the water rippled, then shimmered as Arethusa changed shape. Aura had a glimpse of her face, then the nymph disappeared into the depths of the spring.

The dragon roared and Aura turned to face him. Once his gaze locked with hers, she could only stand and stare.

And want. The force of the firestorm had redoubled since she had fled from the dragon earlier, burning hotter and brighter and more insistently. She was trapped in an orb of heat, one that grew with every beat of the dragon’s wings and drained her of any desire to flee.

The only desire she had was for him.

She knew how Arethusa had been pursued by a river god. She knew how Coronis had been raped by Butes of Thrace. She knew that dozens of nymphs had been coveted, seduced and left pregnant—if not cruelly transformed—by their lovers, both mortal and divine. In a way, the desire of many nymphs to beguile men and use them sexually made sense, for it was a kind of retaliation for eons of abuse.