Serpent's Kiss by Deborah Cooke
“Not a chance.” Thorolf smiled down at her, then spared a quick glance around. They were on a bed of dense vegetation in the jungle. It could have been moss for all he knew, but it was as soft as a bed and dry enough. A stream ran near them, but he couldn’t sense any predators, and a night sky arched high over them.
There could be snakes, though. He shuddered despite himself.
“I guess we don’t have to worry about privacy here,” he said and she laughed at him.
“Don’t tell me you’re shy,” she teased, her eyes dancing.
“Surprised,” he said, taking her in his arms and pulling her into his lap. He kissed her on the mouth. “Amazed, even.” He kissed her again and took his time about it. “Lucky,” he murmured, then kissed beneath her ear. She tipped her head back and sighed contentment. “But not shy. I missed the line where they were giving that out.”
Chandra laughed and pushed him down to his back. “You were too busy in the other lines,” she said before she kissed him slowly. Her hair fell around them, curtaining them from the world.
If there were snakes, he wouldn’t see them coming.
He was surprisingly good with that. This was worth it.
“What other lines?” he asked when she lifted her head.
“The one for loyalty.” She kissed his jaw, then the hollow of his throat. Thorolf sighed as the firestorm surged through him. “You had to be right at the front of that one.” She kissed his shoulder, then ran a line of kisses toward his nipple. Silver sparks danced over his flesh, burning too much to tickle.
This firestorm just might kill Thorolf, but it would be so worth it.
“The one for valor,” she murmured, then suckled his nipple the same way he’d kissed hers. Thorolf caught his breath at the sensation and wanted to roar with pleasure.
“You like that?” she whispered against his skin.
“Oh, yeah.”
“So that’s why you taught me to do it,” she replied, then closed her mouth over his other nipple. She used her tongue and her teeth, teasing him so he thought he’d lose his mind. Her other hand worked his other nipple, her fingers as distracting as her mouth.
“The one for a strong moral code,” Chandra whispered, then dragged the tip of her tongue down toward his navel. Thorolf had forgotten what the heck she was talking about. “You were early in that line, too.”
Right.
Lines.
A strong moral code?
He felt obliged to argue with her. “You’ve got me confused with someone else,” he protested. “But don’t let me mess with your illusions.”
She laughed and he looked down at her, his heart aching at the glow in her blue eyes. “No,” she said with a quiet confidence that made his heart thump. “You pretend to be a party animal who takes nothing seriously, but you’re the most valiant, loyal and moral man I’ve ever known. You stick with your friends through thick and thin, you never forget your alliances, and you give everything you’ve got when you fight.” Her hands were on his thighs, her feather-light touch making it impossible for Thorolf to think straight. As he watched, she closed one hand around his erection. The heat of the firestorm raced through him from that point and he thought he might lose it completely.
Chandra was smiling at him, all mischief and sparkling eyes.
“I’m guessing that works for you,” he managed to say.
“You work for me,” she replied, her conviction making his heart nearly burst with pride. She then kissed the tip of his erection, flicking her tongue across him in a way that nearly made the rest of him burst.
The spark that erupted at that point could have stopped Thorolf’s heart, but that was nothing compared to the power of Chandra’s touch when her mouth closed over him. He felt the silvery light of the firestorm flood through him, banishing the shadows and darkness like the light of the full moon. Quicksilver might have been running through his veins, filling him with light and power and strength. His heart thundered with new vigor, as the firestorm healed him from his marrow out.
He felt celebratory, as only dragons could. He hadn’t eliminated Chen, but that would come. For the moment, there was this magnificent moment with his mate. He wanted to make love to Chandra for the rest of his life, every day and every night. He was hard and hot and ready for her, his blood pumping and his body filled with demand.
But not like this.
Not the first time.
Her pleasure had to be first.
He pulled her into his embrace, lifting her mouth to his. He was surprised when he opened his eyes to find that the firestorm had brightened to a sphere of brilliant white light. He rolled Chandra to her back, smiling at her surprise.
“That wasn’t right?” she asked with an uncertainty that charmed him.
“It was awesome,” he admitted, then kissed her sweetly. “But the firestorm is about mutual pleasure.” He looked her in the eye. “And the mate should be pleased first.”
“Gallant,” she whispered. “I should have figured you’d hit that line, too.”
Thorolf held her gaze, waiting until she blushed with understanding of what he intended to do. Her lips parted in a little gasp of surprise, which was just about the most delicious thing he’d ever seen.
He kissed her with satisfaction, then slid down the length of her. He ran his hands over her, smiling at the sparks that lit beneath his hands and his mouth, illuminating every point he touched her. He kissed her nipples again, teasing them to tight peaks, loving how she moaned with delight. He eased lower, taking his time, savoring the scent of her arousal and smiled when she parted her thighs in anticipation.
He kissed her there slowly and thoroughly, letting her become accustomed to the intimate embrace, loving when she began to squirm with pleasure. His mouth was filled with the fiery heat of the firestorm and the sweet taste of Chandra, and he knew he’d never get enough of her. She would be just as enticing without the firestorm’s spark—and he was determined to ensure that she felt the same way about him.
Once again, he felt his heart match its pace to hers. He knew his breathing had synchronized with hers as well, when he felt that wonderful sense of union.
This was the gift of the firestorm.
This was the future he would claim.
Thorolf pleasured Chandra deliberately, ensuring that he was slow about it, that he prolonged her arousal as long as possible. He used his lips and his tongue, loving how she responded to his touch, feeling the rise of her passion. She was breathing quickly and flushed scarlet, her hands knotted in his hair. He loved the sound of her moans and the way she writhed beneath his touch, and he savored when she began to beg for release.
He teased her and tormented her, making the pleasure last as long as he could. He wanted her first time to be amazing. Chandra was incoherent in her arousal, flushed and so far from her usual commanding self that Thorolf was entranced.
He chose his moment with care, then pressed his thumb hard against her to launch the explosion. Silver sparks flew in every direction as Chandra cried out in delight. Thorolf watched her climax with pride, his eyes widening in wonder as she once again rotated through a thousand forms. He watched, fascinated by all that his mate was and had been.
The show must be linked to pleasure. She’d done this shifting the first time he’d kissed her, he recalled, that first hot sweet kiss.
Maybe being overwhelmed made it impossible for her to hide this truth. Thorolf didn’t much care. He watched in wonder as she shifted and knew he’d lost his heart completely.
Her hair was dark, fair, chestnut, red and every shade in between. It was long, short, straight, wavy; her eyes were blue, grey, brown and green, her lips were full or thin, her face changed shapes, her breasts were larger or smaller, but it was Chandra each and every time, Chandra in all the glory of what she had been and would be.
Until she took a familiar shape.
Ulrike?
Thorolf blinked as Chandra continued to shift, but then she again as
What was that about?
Whatever it was, the sight was enough to trash the mood.
Thorolf had forgotten all about Ulrike, but now he remembered how she’d always seemed to appear at the most inconvenient times, to nearly catch him and Astrid in intimacy. He’d wondered then how much his beloved’s friend had known about the two of them.
About his true nature.
He hadn’t worried about it too much. But if Chandra was Ulrike, it couldn’t have been unimportant. Something twisted in his gut, an uncertainty he could have lived without. He distrusted this revelation, just as he had instinctively distrusted Ulrike then.
Goddesses didn’t take mortal guise and walk among humans for nothing.
“Now it’s your turn?” Chandra murmured. She braced herself on her elbows to look down at him and smiled, clearly unaware of his reaction. She was the blond Viking again, her hair having worked loose from her braid to flow over her shoulders. Her eyes twinkled with a satisfaction that should have pleased him. It was as if Thorolf had imagined what he’d seen.
But he hadn’t.
Thorolf eased away, letting the firestorm dim so he could think.
She’d tried to have oral sex, which wouldn’t satisfy the firestorm. She’d allowed him to please her the same way, but no one conceived a son like that.
Maybe she hadn’t yet decided to surrender to the firestorm.
Maybe she just wanted to take the edge off.
Maybe she had some other plan.
“Is something wrong?” Chandra reached after him, her fingers landing on his shoulder. The silver heat of the firestorm burned there, a simmering spark that challenged what Thorolf had just seen. Was the firestorm right about his mate or not?
“I’m not sure,” he said, needing to be honest no matter what she’d done. He looked around them and saw the temple where she’d first taken him, the temple filled with skulls.
The ghosts had shown him Chandra’s truth before. Maybe they would again.
There were three skulls hanging from the Valkyrie’s discarded belt, perched on their tangled clothing. Before he could think too much about the wisdom of his choice, Thorolf seized one of them.
“Show me Ulrike!” he said, hoping to command the ghosts.
“No!” Chandra cried in obvious dismay, but the snow had surrounded them again. Lightning cracked across the sky, taking the firestorm to a white heat, then icy rain pounded down. Thorolf gripped the skull tightly, refusing to let go despite the onslaught.
The rain stopped.
He smelled a wood fire burning.
And he heard Astrid’s whisper in his ear. The sound of her voice brought a tear to his eye, one he blinked away before he opened his eyes to look.
* * *
Chandra couldn’t stop the vision. Even knowing that didn’t stop her from trying. It was the worst possible moment for Thorolf to learn what she’d done, and she knew he’d see it as a betrayal.
The irony was that now she’d see it the same way. Then, she’d had no idea how it felt to be mortal and at the whim of gods. She’d given no consideration to the limits of a single short life, to the loss of hopes and dreams. She’d never imagined that Thorolf could have loved this mere mortal woman so deeply.
She knew it now. She regretted her choice. But she feared it was too late to make amends.
When the swirling snow disappeared, they were in the village again, that hideous primitive village. Chandra was Ulrike, a human guise she’d created with care. She’d pretended to have been from a nearby village that had been burned to ash by the dragon shifters they’d ultimately come to call Slayers. She’d pretended to be a sole survivor, a widow and a bereaved mother. The villagers had taken her in, feeling compassion for her plight.
In truth, there had been no survivors of the attack, but that meant there had been no one to challenge Ulrike’s story.
Except the dragon shifters who had hunted and destroyed every soul in that village.
In those days, in that valley, the humans knew only of dragons. They didn’t know the truth of the Pyr and their shifting abilities, much less that of Slayers. They had no real understanding of the battle being waged, the debate as to whether they were themselves treasures of the earth to be defended or a scourge to be removed. They certainly hadn’t guessed that dragons could walk among them, disguised as mortal men.
They knew only that dragons periodically attacked their villages, seized their maidens, devoured their livestock and burned their homes. The dragons came out of the mountains without warning, as majestic and beautiful as they were cruel and bent on destruction. The villagers feared the dragons, reasonably enough, and sought ways to win their favor.
Knowing that Astrid had to be removed, Chandra as Ulrike had suggested a way.
She felt sickened now by what she had done.
The village had always looked the same, at least until its final destruction. The mountains had framed the valley the same way, and the villagers had followed their routines the same way. It could have been any day that they arrived, but Chandra could have named the precise moment. She knew what the ghosts would show Thorolf.
She as Ulrike was in the forest, creeping closer to a hidden lover’s nest. Thorolf and his lover Astrid were nestled in a hollow in the forest that was thick with furs, whispering together after their lovemaking. The trees were in spring leaf, arching high over them, and the sunlight was golden yellow.
Astrid’s father pretended to oblivious to the encounters, but the truth was that he admired Thorolf. He would have welcomed him into his household and his family—because he didn’t know the full truth of Thorolf’s nature. He thought him a warrior and a good one. He had no idea Thorolf was Pyr. He had advised his wife to let their daughter conceive a child. He was sure that a man like Thorolf would be responsible.
Chandra as Ulrike had hidden behind a large tree, close enough to eavesdrop on the lovers. She endured the sounds of robust lovemaking and the nonsense of lovers’ whispers, hoping that this would be the day that Astrid took the bait so carefully presented.
“My friend says that you are uncommonly strong,” Astrid whispered and Thorolf chuckled. Ulrike straightened with hope.
“I thought you liked that,” he whispered, cupping her breast in his hand and kissing her nipple. Chandra recalled all too well how good that felt. She couldn’t see his eyes from this angle, but she guessed that they were vividly blue and filled with humor.
“I do,” Astrid sighs. “But she wonders if you are more than a man.”
Thorolf stilled. “What is this?”
“She says they had a story in their village. The seer insisted that there was a man in this valley who was dragon, as well. He said the man could change his form, and choose to be either dragon or man.”
Thorolf, Chandra saw, was motionless, his attention fixed upon his lover. Little did he realize how that very stillness and focus revealed the truth of his nature.
Astrid smiled up at him. “Their seer said that this man is the only one who can stop the dragons from destroying villages. She said that if you were that man, we would be so lucky.”
“And you hoped I might be.”
“I love you, just the way you are.” Astrid kissed him sweetly. “But you are stronger than most and taller than most, and it wouldn’t surprise me if you were that man.”
“It wouldn’t frighten you?”
“I love you. I know you would never hurt me, no matter what you can do.”
Thorolf studied her for a long moment and Ulrike held her breath in the shadows. When she saw the pale blue shimmer of light, Ulrike smiled, knowing that he would step into the trap she had set.
But Chandra’s gut churned with guilt.
“Let me show you something,” Thorolf whispered. He kissed Astrid’s eyelids one after the other, even as her fingers lifted toward the bl
“Oh, Thorolf,” Astrid whispered, her delight clear.
Thorolf stepped from the bed, his nude body magnificent. The blue shimmer grew brighter as he threw his head back, then he shifted shape in a brilliant glow of light. A large and muscular dragon took his place, a dragon with scales of moonstone and silver. He gleamed in the sunlight, his scales like a coat of polished mail, or one made of moonlight, and Chandra blinked at how much he had changed. “Look,” he whispered to his lover.
“I knew it!” Astrid cried and leapt upon him, planting a thousand kisses on his chest. “I knew that if there were such a man, he would be you.” Thorolf lifted her in his claws, his touch protective and careful, even as Ulrike leaned back against the tree to keep herself hidden. She felt his attention sharpen. She heard him inhale, and feared she would be discovered.
The village wasn’t far.
She decided to risk it.
She broke and ran, darting toward the meadow that could be seen from the village. She heard Thorolf roar and Astrid beg him to let whoever it was flee. She raced through the forest, holding her hood over her head and ducking low. To her delight, there were boys in the meadow with their goats. She ran into the sunlight, knowing she looked distraught.
“What is it?”
“What is the matter?”
“Are you well?”
The boys surrounded her immediately, their concern providing her the perfect opportunity to close the trap. She easily feigned horror and dismay. “I saw…I saw…Astrid making love with a dragon!”
And then it was done. The story took on a power of its own with startling speed. The boys told other boys, who told fathers and brothers and mothers and sisters, and by the time Astrid came back to the village, smiling with contentment and pleasure, her fate had been sealed.
She was allied with the dragons.
She would be the human offering made to them, in the hope that she would be enough to sate them.
When she protested, she was over-ruled.
When she fought, she was bound to a rock outside the village.