Lagon smiled.
A slaver’s ship had docked. The wizards on board would pay well for the
dragon’s pelt and they would wait in port until the skin was cured. He left the
tower and walked down the path to the rocks. One half of the blue pelt soaked
in the brine. Though a red brought more coins, he had a use for the remaining High
Peaks
When images
of her naked and bound to his bed arose, his phala throbbed. He drew a deep breath
and fought to control the image. When he took her for the first time she would
be in the speakers’ hall after a mating flight. The heirs of the three other
towers would witness the event so no one could say the son she bore belonged to
another man.
He barked a
laugh. She disliked and feared him. He would possess her. Once she gave him a
son he would make her his wife. From the moment he’d seen her during the
takeover at High
Peaks
“Come back.” A
woman’s shout interrupted his reverie.
He wheeled
and saw the only child of his loins running from her nurse. Her ebony-colored
hair had escaped its braid and flew in a dark cloud around her face. The girl
halted at his side. “Why did you kill the dragon?” Her dark eyes flashed with
anger.
“For my own
reasons. You have no right to question me.”
“He was
brave. I watched the battle from the tower heights. If he had fought one or
even two dragons, he would have won. Who was his speaker?”
“He had
none.”
She put her
hands on her hips. “You should have kept him. He was stronger and cannier than
the Sea Cliff blue.”
Lagon’s hands
clenched. How could she have a loyalty to High Peaks
“Go to your
room,” he commanded. The moment he was sure Arana was with child, Lorana would
go to the slavers.
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