Free Dragon's Mate [Cairgorm Dragons 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Clair de Lune Page B

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    Summer solstice was upon them. The Clan assembled in dragon-form. Braemuir was uneasy. Oidhche had not been unmasked. It was the hour before sunrise. Time to issue the age-old challenge, a mere formality these days. He raised himself to his full height, on his powerful hindquarters, and bugled his challenge once, twice, three times. He had been expecting nothing, so when a huge black dragon answered the challenge, he was startled, but he rose on his hind legs ready to do battle for the Clan.
    “I challenge you to fight. I have a mate who is impregnated. With me, the future of the Clan is safe.”
    “Who are you? Reveal yourself.”
    “Time enough for that when you and yours are no more. Fight, or are you too afraid?”
    “I am afraid of no one. I’m not the one who has skulked in the shadows and tried to kill innocents.”
    “Fight, damn you. Enough of this idle talk.”
    Oidche launched himself in the sky. Solus followed, and the battle began. Solus knew it would be a fight to the death. He didn’t want to kill, but if he didn’t, the Clan would doubt his strength, and this black menace would never go away. Death was the only option.
     
    * * * *
     
    Ciarda made her way to the Caisteal. She had scratched her arms and was covered in dirt. She looked as if she had been in an accident, which was how she’d been told to present herself. Seonag met her at the door.
    “What is it you want? What’s happened to you?”
    Ciarda knew that Seonag didn’t like her, Ciarda didn’t care, the feeling was mutual. When Oidhche was Braemuir, Seonag would have to go.
    “I’ve a dreadul tale to tell, but it is for Eilidh’s ears alone.”
    “Eildh can’t see you now. She’s awaiting the call to her dragon mating.”
    Ciarda had been told to expect this and how to react. She threw herself at Seonag’s feet and, weeping and sobbing, begged to see Eildh.
    “What is it, Seonag? Who is this? What’s wrong?”
    Ciarda permitted herself a smile of pure malice, unseen by these clods.
    “Eilidh, I have something I must tell you. It is important and can’t wait.” She said no more. Oidhche had told her that silence often got more than too many words. He was proved right when Eilidh began to descend the stairs. Ciarda fingered the knife hidden in her shawl. Just a little closer. Come down a few more steps. She saw that Eilidh was slowing, so she moaned, clutching at her breast.
    “Ah, I’m in such pain, Eilidh. I need to tell you before I die.”
    She heard that stupid cunt, Seonag, snort in derision. Eilidh seemed to waver, but Ciarda moaned, and the silly fool came down two more steps. Not quite near enough. No more words, just moans.
    Ciarda saw Eilidh step down into the hall. Ciarda seized the knife in her hand and leaped up to plunge it in Eilidh’s breast.
    “Die, fool. You don’t deserve to be Braemuir’s mate.”

Chapter Twelve
     
    The final battle was watched by the whole Clan, in dragon-form, but there was little doubt in anyone’s mind of the outcome. Solus wondered if there was even in Oidhche’s, who fought well at the end. It was a bloody business, and Solus hated to kill one of his own, but he knew that Oidhche would never give up. Solus had a mate, his heir and the welfare of the Clan to think about, and he couldn’t let one rogue dragon destroy it all. He knew that Oidhche would never cease to try and wrest the chieftainship from him if he were allowed to live, thus putting them all in danger. Some would take one side and some another, and it would rip the Clan in two. He couldn’t allow that.
     
    * * * *
     
    They locked talons and struggled for hours. Oidhche tried to break Solus’s hold in order to slash at him, but Solus was the stronger by far. Oidhche began to weaken. As they hurled themselves through the sky, both screaming defiance and bugling their challenge to each other, it soon became clear that Oidhche couldn’t keep it up for much longer. The end was fast approaching. He knew