A Night of Dragon Wings - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,45

"Bayrin?"

He ignored her.

She spoke softly again, and he felt her fingers in his hair. "Bayrin, are you sleeping?"

He grumbled under his breath, keeping his eyes stubbornly shut, though he could feel her looking at him. The woman was a leech! He had never met anyone so clingy. He did not want to speak to her. He did not want to remember her kisses, those warm kisses that used to intoxicate his youth. He did not want to remember her lithe, naked body pressed against him, the warmth of her as they made love, her teeth biting his shoulder, or…

Stop it. He ground his teeth. Stop thinking about her, Bayrin. It's Mori you love. It's Mori you are sworn to protect. Just ignore Piri.

He lay still for long moments, pretending to sleep, and she did not speak again. Finally he heard her lie down behind him. She wriggled in the grass, and he felt her pressed up against his back. Her arm reached over him, and she nestled close under his cloak.

He groaned.

"Piri!" he said. "What are you doing?"

She cuddled against him, arm draped over him. He could feel her breasts press against his back, and her hand strayed down, moving dangerously close to the very last parts he wanted her near. He sucked in his breath.

"I'm trying to sleep," she whispered, her lips touching his ear. "I thought you were sleeping too."

He wriggled in the grass, moving away from, placing a good foot of space between them.

"Well, sleep away from me!" he said and closed his eyes tight.

He heard her stand, walk around him, then lie down on his other side. When he opened an eye, he saw her facing him. She wiggled closer to him, so close that she pressed against his chest. She sneaked under his cloak, draped an arm and leg over him, and cuddled.

"But I'm cold and I forgot my cloak at the camp," she said.

"Not my problem, Piri."

His cheeks flushed. Stars damn it. Her body against his was affecting him, like it or not. She pressed close against him, felt his arousal, and smiled.

"Please, Bayrin? I don't want to freeze to death." She closed her eyes, still smiling, and nuzzled her cheek against his cheek. "I'm just going to sleep. I know you still love Mori. I'm not going to do anything, I promise. Just… sleep…"

Her voice softened, and soon she was breathing deeply, sound asleep against him.

Bayrin cursed inwardly. He cursed Piri. He cursed Elethor for sending her here. He cursed the desert of Tiranor, and he cursed his own blood for boiling. Piri mumbled in her sleep and cuddled even closer, pressing hard against him. Stars, how would he possibly sleep like this?

He sighed. It would be a long night. It would be a long quest.

TREALE

She was stoking the fireplace in Sharik's small, craggy chamber when she heard shouts, ran into the dungeon corridor, and saw the golden dragon.

Her breath died and for an instant Treale froze, eyes stinging and fingers trembling.

She had been working in this dungeon for six days now, serving her master, Sharik. For six days she had swept his floor, stoked his fireplace, cooked his meals, and—she cringed to think of it—emptied his chamber pot and washed his foul tunics. For six days she had cleaned up after his work, mopping blood and gore from under the bodies he tortured. For six days he would grumble, fondle her, slap her if she met his eyes, and spit upon her. For six days she had tried to grab his keys—but whenever she inched close, she earned another smack that left her head ringing, and at nights his girth would cover his treasure.

And Mori was so close! Treale had heard the princess whimper down the hall, and she longed to run to her, to whisper under the door, to comfort her, to let Mori know she was here. And yet how could she?

During the days, Sharik kept her at his side. She would mop blood from cells where prisoners hung, their flesh lacerated, their skin peeled. She would collect the fingers he severed and burn them. She would bring water and food to whimpering or screaming mouths, trying to keep these broken bodies alive.

And yet the chamber at the hall's end where Mori lay… that was forbidden. In that chamber lay Tiranor's greatest prize, the Weredragon Princess herself. Only Sharik brought food and water to that chamber. Only Sharik mopped the blood from that floor. Even at nights when Sharik slept,