She is Ours

Brishor gripped Chezzal’s thigh beneath the table as his eyes became wide. The girl in front of them was… beautiful, no, ethereal. His throat bobbed when he heard the thundering beats of her heart. His chest was gripped in a vise-like feel, as he sensed her fear. He rapidly tried to decipher what she was afraid of, but then his gaze dropped to the slit on the side of her lips. Her scent—of flowers, of jacaranda wrapped in lemon and fire, hit him with full force. 

—Mine— 

He could feel the bond, the chain, the link that tethered him to her. Before he could do anything, Chezzal rose to his feet. He stared at her as the girl held a large folder in her hands, looking fearfully at the man and then at Duke Alburn. She seemed to tremble, her skin was flushed and her face pale. Her deep auburn hair was tied in a loose braid and some strands came out. Those winter gray eyes lifted to meet Brishor’s gaze. His world tilted on its axis and then started spinning… rapidly. Her dress made from a rough material was hanging over her petite frame. The need to remove it and feel her creamy skin with his calloused fingers, was too strong to be denied. His body became taut as a bow string with tension surging through him. Her gaze went to Chezzal, who had the same effect. 

—She is ours—

It was apparent that she hadn’t sensed them as her mate. She was a human. But that didn’t matter to both the dragons, for the girl was theirs, for her fate was sealed. 

“What are you doing?” Alburn growled at her when a paper slipped from her hands and dropped to the ground. In confusion she bent down to retrieve it when the rest of the papers also fell from her grip. They scattered everywhere much to her chagrin. “You bloody idiot! You have messed the entire sequence!” Alburn snarled. He got up to collect the paper. The man beside them gripped the upper arm of the girl and turned her to face him. He raised his hand to slap her. 

Brishor leapt across the table, with things in between falling, in a split second and curled his hands around the man’s throat in a tight grip, the tattoos on his body glowing. The guards and others in the room rushed to them to stop the dragon king, but Chezzal had his sword out of the sheath and was standing in front of all of them as jade-colored scales rippled on his arm and settled. The man whom Brishor held was struggling as his feet dangled in the air. He had held Brishor’s wrist with both his hands but couldn’t dislodge it. 

They saw the girl stumbling back, with more fear in her eyes. But she couldn’t go anywhere because a guard shoved her in front of Duke Alburn. The duke caught her by the braid, which he curled around his hand. His guards took a step towards them with their swords and spears out. They converged around them. 

“King Brishor,” Alburn said as his voice dropped low. “Don’t tell me you are against slavery. I heard that you have many servants in your kingdom.” He pulled the girl’s hair and a fierce growl emanated from Chezzal as Meryl whimpered in pain. 

Her knees wobbled and her lips quivered. “Please Master… leave me…” she said in a shaky voice. 

Alburn let out a laugh and pulled her more. His lips curled, baring his teeth. “See what I do to her. This one belongs to me and if you dare to take her or interfere in my work, consider this meeting a failure.” 

“Leave her!” Brishor’s lethal voice boomed in the meeting hall. All the guards stopped in their tracks. 

The guard standing close to the duke and the girl, swirled his blade around, as if challenging them. And Brishor knew that this was not going to go easy. His eyes met Chezzal’s and in the next moment, chaos descended in the room. Other men screamed as they darted out of the meeting hall. The soldiers flung their swords at Chezzal and Brishor. Alburn pulled the girl out of the room, but Brishor sent a jolt of magic from his hand and bolted the door shut. Alburn hissed and turned his direction to another exit. 

Brishor’s grip tightened on the man who dropped dead on the floor. The girl screamed when she saw him dropping dead just like that. 

Chezzal sliced his blade through the guards as he made his way to her, leaving a trail of dead or wounded behind him. Soon he reached the duke. “My king said to leave her. You should have left her,” he sneered. His sword went straight to his throat. 

The next second Alburn’s dagger was on the girl’s back, near her heart. “If you move a finger as much, she dies. I know what she is to you. Believe me I will have fun killing her and then blaming you for the failure of the treaty between humans and the Loreans.” He took a step back carefully, still gripping her hair. 

Meryl’s gaze flickered across the three men who were around her. She didn’t know why the two wanted to save her and why Alburn wanted to kill her. What did he mean by saying what she meant to them? Her body was weakening by the minute. Fever had kicked in and it was burning her skin. On top of that the pain Alburn was inflicting on her. His dagger had penetrated her flesh. Blood trickled down her back. “Ah!” she gasped. She was so emotionally and physically drained, that she was slowly losing consciousness. Yet she managed to stay awake. Tears trickled down her eyes. 

“You won’t do anything like that,” snarled Brishor, when Alburn bumped into his broad chest while stepping back. Brishor pulled his sword across Alburn’s neck. Her tears affected him at a basic level. It tore his heart 

The duke stilled as the dragon king’s sword poked in his flesh. 

“If you like, I can kill you right here and declare that the treaty failed because of you,” said Brishor as a threat. “However, if you want this peril to be settled, leave her.”

Alburn chuckled. “Settled?” he glanced at the mayhem around them, and at the bodies lying dead on the floor. Slowly, he unwound the girl’s hair from his hand and removed his dagger, shoving her away from him. “I think it just began,” he sneered.

Meryl swayed and was about to fall when in a heartbeat Brishor instantly grabbed her and scooped her in his arms, his fingers curling around her possessively.