Page 31 of The Dragon Sacrifice

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Seela paced in the library like a caged animal. Nothing was turning out how she’d thought it would. Being abducted was horrible and attacked by those monsters was a nightmare, but she’d mostly thought that life with the three brothers was pretty great. She wasn’t at home having to tend oozing wounds or be harassed by her mother’s sick clients. She didn’t have to dodge ass grabs on the way to the market or shiver in bed when the nights grew long and cold.

She’d really come to like and respect the three brothers. More than that, they did things to her she hadn’t even known possible. In fact, Seela had spent more time imagining them doing things to her in the last three days than she had about anyone in the entirety of her life outside of the cave. They were the sexiest men alive, and they had magic powers. Who could resist?

Well, it turned out she could. Or rather, she couldn’t get herself to say the things Jerrard needed her to say to let him know she was interested. In fact, in all three encounters, she’d flubbed the interactions. She was beginning to suspect she was terrible at love and at sex, and she’d better just throw in the towel now. The bishop had really dodged a bullet on bedding her. He would’ve left woefully disappointed.

Seela stopped before an ancient painting above a low bookshelf stuffed with books. The image showed a beautiful young woman in a petal-pink dress that bloomed out from her hips like a chrysanthemum. She was doe-eyed and dewy-cheeked, gazing off toward something while one dainty hand rested on her collarbone.

“That is my mother,” a voice said behind her.

Seela whirled. Langdon stood freshly showered and shaved in fine clothing. He lingered in the doorway. “Did I startle you? I’m very sorry.”

“No, I… was just thinking.” She pointed to the picture, going back to his original comment. “This is your mother?”

Langdon walked up, admiring the painting as if it were fresh to him. “She was so young and pretty then. It’s no wonder Father picked her.”

But there was pain in Langdon’s expression. “Did something happen to her?”

He kept his eyes on the painting as he answered. “She was murdered.”

“Murdered? I thought that dragons couldn’t be killed.”

“That’s true, but she wasn’t a dragon. Dragons are only born male. We mate with human females to reproduce. Or at least we did.” His eyes dropped down to hers. She felt a pull between them, and something stirred in Seela that had gone silent after Jerrard left.

“That must’ve been very painful for you,” she whispered.

He nodded, reaching out to touch the painting before drawing his hand back. “It was a long time ago.”

“Who killed her? That is, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind you asking,” Langdon said, resting an arm against a bookshelf. “She was one of the first to die in the attacks that left my people practically destroyed. They came for the wives and consorts first. If you killed all the women, dragons couldn’t reproduce. But it turns out they weren’t willing to kill all human women, just the ones who would associate with dragons, and the human king underestimated just how charming dragon men can be. Plus, dragons live a very long time, nearly forever in human terms. Even if the dragons left didn’t mate, we could still outlive them by centuries. Thus, the curse.”

Seela felt the pain deep in her chest as she thought about that time. “I can’t believe humans could be so cruel. To wipe out a whole species like that. Who could do such a thing?”

“The human king at the time was very angry with my father over some policies he’d implemented. Most kings don’t like sharing power, and that human king definitely did not. He’d been slaughtering his enemies for years before he came for my father.” Langdon turned his gaze away, clearing his throat. “It’s ancient history now. No one really remembers it all.”

Seela nodded, running a finger down a book’s cracked spine. “So what now? Did you keep the horde at bay? Are we safe?”

“You are safe. I swear by my life no harm will come to you.”

When she glanced up, he was watching her intently. These men had a way of doing that, locking her in their gaze like she was prey. But instead of feeling afraid, she felt aroused. It didn’t hurt that Jerrard had had her so turned on she’d soaked her undergarments. That desire had never been released. She burned with it now, a want she couldn’t satisfy on her own. It was a strange and complex feeling.

“Langdon, did Jerrard say anything to you when he left here?” she asked.

“About you? Not much.” But she could tell by his expression there were things he wasn’t telling her.

She turned toward him, trying to get up the courage that seemed to slide back down her throat at the moment she needed it. “Did he tell you about… what we did?”

Langdon straightened his posture. “What you did? No. Not exactly.”

Not exactly? They had been talking about her.

“Oh, Lords.” She whirled from him, a blush heating up her cheeks. “What you three must think of me.”

She started to leave, but his hand caught her arm. When she stopped retreating and faced him, he let her go.

“Seela, please, let me assure you we think nothing but the best of you. You helped heal Jerrard. You rushed headlong into a swarm of horde monsters with no thought for your own safety.” He chuckled at the memory of it, then reached out to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “We think you are the most special woman we’ve ever met.”

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