The Dragon and the Dreamwalker (Elemental Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

cost.”
    “I will.”
    Her gaze darted up to his eyes, as she wanted to stare into the face of the man who would take her life. But instead of the hatred and anger she thought she’d find, she saw gentleness and a haunting sadness.
    “I will take what I want,” he reassured her, “but I have no intention of killing you.”
    She knew it should have relieved her, but somehow it only prolonged the waiting. Something she didn’t like in the least. Whatever he had planned for her was surely worse than death. He released her arm and used his foot to raise the coverlet from the floor to his hand. He wrapped it around her shoulders and tossed the dagger onto the bed. Her eyes followed it, and thoughts of diving for it as soon as his back was turned entertained her head. Then he either foolishly or trustingly, she wasn’t sure which, turned his back to her. The moment she was waiting for. But before she could dive for the dagger, his deep voice stopped her, though he didn’t turn around.
    “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Precious.”
    He sat down at the foot of the bed and faced her, leaning back on his elbows. His muscles rippled in the firelight, his bare chest begging to be touched by a woman’s hands. His tight breeches stretched over his thighs, doing nothing to hide his attraction for her. He lazily crossed his booted feet, not caring that his lust was evident. His long black hair hung to his shoulders. His eyes were like the black velvet of a moonless night, cool and unreadable.
    “Do what?” she asked, rearranging the coverlet to keep her body hidden from him. She hoped he couldn’t read her thoughts. She didn’t want him to know how much she hated or feared him for what he’d done. Or how much she admired his manly beauty and grace.
    “Kill me,” he answered. “After all, that is what you were planning, is it not?”
    So if he knew of her intentions, why’d he taunt her by throwing the dagger on the bed within her reach? Mayhap he was toying with her. Or testing her for some odd reason.
    “I don’t believe it’d look very good for a woman to kill her own husband,” he continued.
    “Husband?” Her eyes left the dagger and focused back on him. “I have no husband. You know not of what you speak.”
    “Ah, but how wrong you are my feisty little witch. Come the morning, you’ll be married to me, Brynn. Brynn is your name, is it not? I’ve heard that the woman of fire is called Brynn - named after the brimstone of which she was conceived.”
    “You would know more about brimstone than I. And I would never marry a devil of a man such as yourself.”
    He chuckled again and pushed himself up to a standing position, towering over her small frame. Her boldness seemed shallower when he wasn’t at a lower level than she. She didn’t at all feel as confident of her escape anymore.
    “You said yourself that I take whatever I want. And I want you.” He headed for the door, grabbing a tunic and slipping it over his head as he walked. “Juturna will see to you now, though I don’t believe you are at all wounded.”
    “My wounds run deep, my lord. Mayhap they don’t show on the surface, but the scars beneath will never heal.”
    He stopped, hand on the doorframe, and let his eyes rake down her. She felt ravished, though he hadn’t touched her. She felt naked under his perusal, though the coverlet hid her nudity entirely.
    “Leave that to me.” His words sounded more like a promise than a threat. He pulled open the heavy wooden door, giving an order to the guard who stood watch.
    “Why?” she questioned him and he turned back with a look of surprise on his face. His one brow raised and the side of his mouth lifted again, showing off his dimple.
    “Why what?”
    “Why!” she repeated, exasperated. “Why do you want to marry me instead of killing me? Am I to be your trophy? Will you show the survivors, if there are any, that you’ve won the spoils of war? Or am I just to be at your side to make