Page 23 of Secrets of Avalon
Hawke Stormblood
Dismissing yet another guard with a casual flick of my hand, I issue my command firmly. "See to it that no one has been harmed. I need to have a word with the Drakonii."
The guard inclines his head. "Of course, your highness." He departs without further delay.
Purpose in my stride, I advance toward the formidable dragon. Our gazes lock, and I can almost read the torrent of emotions swirling in his ancient eyes—recognition sparks, quickly followed by a shadow of concern.
The Drakonii, a man of imposing stature, instinctively shifts to shield the woman at his side.
An involuntary growl rumbles deep within me, the primal part of my being stirring with possessiveness. The word echoes through the chambers of my mind, resonating with a feral intensity—mine.
"That's the man I glimpsed through the doorway."
Her voice is heaven to my ears.
She maneuvers herself around the imposing Drakonii.
My breath hitches in my throat, taking in my first unobstructed view of her. She’s dressed differently now–like a Drakonii. The traditional chiton she wears seems custom-made to accentuate the graceful curves of her body. Her luxuriously dark brown hair, twisted into an elegant half-up, half-down style, spills in soft curls that tenderly brush against her neck and shoulder.
Primitive feelings of ownership surge within me, setting my senses angrily ablaze when I see the distinct mark of a somatophylakes bonding writhing like a living thing up and down her forearm. Mine. Mine. Mine. Not his.
"No, Domina," Kellan corrects her, wrapping a protective arm around her and drawing her back to his side. "You're standing before Prince Stormblood."
"Kellan, it's okay."
Kellan? Realization dawns. She’s not under the protection of just any somatophylakes, she's bonded to none other than the legendary Kellan of Gilat. This is the man who faithfully served as bodyguard to the royal Elvin family for over three centuries. The queen's passing was a mere three years ago.
Traditionally, Kellan should have retired, taken a wife, and begun his own family. Instead, I find myself locked in a silent confrontation with him, his hands possessively lingering on my woman.
She looks at me, no fear, only curiosity. “Why couldn’t you help me at the river? What happened?”
“I tried. I couldn’t get to you. I think it was an illusion. A shared one through the locked door.” I look from her to the dragon. “What happened? Why did you use your magick here?”
“It’s complicated, your highness. I can explain, but we really should move off the street now.”
“I’m fine right now. I just got overwhelmed and–”
“Domina.” He cuts her off abruptly.
I reach out to touch her. “Who are you?” I want so badly to have a solid connection to her. She’s carrying my soul. Does she know she has it pulsing within her, alive and calling to me? Mine.
“I’m Melinda M–”
The Drakonii reacts with lighting speed, knocking me to the ground like a nuisance. Guards surge forward from the edges of the crowd, but I dismiss them with a wave. “I’m fine. It was a misunderstanding.”
“You may wear the mantle of a prince, but she is my Domina. You shall not lay hands on her as if she belongs to you.”
I bite back the angry response dancing on the tip of my tongue. Instead I brush myself off and calmly stand back up. I at least succeeded in getting her first name. “My sincerest apologies, Lady Melinda. I didn’t mean any offense.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine.” She flashes me the most beautiful apologetic smile. Then turns to her protector with a frown. “Did you have to knock him down, Kellan?”
“Indeed, Domina,” the dragon answers, completely ignoring me.
“He was well within his right, milady. There are rules in place to protect you and I ignored them.”
The Drakonii growls at me and his tattoos shimmer, an unspoken threat. One I’ll likely disregard as soon as his back’s turned. Melinda is mine. I will have her. He can go find himself some other charge. I wave at the once again bustling marketplace. “Please follow me.”
I pivot on my heel, motioning toward the imposing keep that looms ominously behind them. We proceed in silence, the only sounds being the occasional crunch of gravel beneath our boots and the loud hum of the marketplace. It's a brief walk, but the tension is thick, stretching the minutes into an eternity.