Falk Clan Tales - Chapter 32: Chapter 32

Edric could not believe it. Here? Now? His heart thundered in his chest to the point where it was almost painful. What tricks were the Fates up to this time? Did they not have enough entertainment at his expense?
Well, he would have none of it. No more games with his heart. He’d live and die alone. In solitude. He was a Dragon shifter, and he would not be trifled with.
He was not in the mood for games. No matter what the crimson beast inside of him wanted. He felt more than heard the deep, rumbling growl of his Dragon penetrate his mind’s eye. Es meus.
Edric gritted his teeth. He’d do anything to stop the madness that was certain to follow if he listened to his Dragon. He couldn’t risk it. He’d die if he were betrayed again.
Heck, he’d die without his maiden too, but at least that was his choice. The one thing a Dragon of a certain age needed more than air, food, and water, even more than treasure, was his one true mate, his maiden. He shook his head. It was better to die on his own terms.
He heard her step behind him as he walked into one of the spare rooms on the ground floor of Castle Falk. This one was decorated in soft beiges and ivories. It was perfunctory, but not especially beautiful. Not until she stood before him.
Edric inhaled, and her scent hit him again. Like nutmeg and saffron, a dark and spicy flavor that made his mouth water. Her eyes were hazel and seemed to change right in front of him from green, to brown, to gold, then to a darkish, purple color. Hypnotic. Beautiful.
She wore a modern dress, but Edric applauded her modesty. The bodice was high, to her long, smooth neck, and the skirt fell softly just above her knees. He didn’t particularly like the way, so many normals wore clothing that resembled little more than underwear.
No, she was dressed perfectly. The belt at her waist showed off its small size in comparison to her bountiful breasts and perfectly rounded hips. He had to force himself to look away. She was perfection.
He wondered when she would make her play. When would the temptress begin her dance to enslave him? Would she bat her long eyelashes and beg him to take her? Would she promise him power, pleasure, or wealth? He felt sure he could resist her. Well, maybe not sure, but he was determined to at any rate.
He stood straight to his full six-foot-four-inch frame and waited. The air felt warm to him. His Dragon stirred beneath his skin, and he closed his eyes to calm the beast within. He’d never felt so nervous in battle as he did standing in front of her. He waited.
Edric was stumped when she made no move. He exhaled and narrowed his eyes. She toys with me. The better to entrap me.
The shine of her long, curly, dark tresses hanging down her back made him think of the onyx mines he held deeds to in South America. She was voluptuous and alluring as a woman should be, but there was danger there behind her full lips. More danger than there was in the fact that she was a Witch.
There was a time when Witches hunted Dragons for their magic. Not that it ever did them any good. Witch Magic was a finite thing in the universe, and those who practiced casting could hardly be expected to harvest and manage the magic of a Dragon. He crossed his arms and decided their staring contest had gone on long enough.
“I don’t want you,” he said.
He watched her expression. She seemed more amused than angry. Still, Edric thought he detected a hint of outrage. Sassy. Good. He had no interest in a scene that involved tears or begging. He’d simply let her down easy.
They’d just have to get through this weekend then never see each other again. Brilliant. Before he could vocalize his amazing idea, she opened her full, red lips and spoke. Her voice hit him in the gut. Alluringly steady, Edric forgot how to breathe the precise moment her voice reached his ears, much less talk.
“Well, that’s good, because I don’t want you either,”