The Priestess and the Dragon_Book 1 in the Dragon Saga Read online

  Suzume crinkled her nose, a charlatan and crude, delightful.

  He leaned back and rested on his arm and regarded the two shrine maidens before him.

  "Now tell me, when was this temple built?"

  The high priestess replied to the reed mats and did not move from her deep bow as she replied, "My lord, in the year one hundred and three of the Taiyō reign."

  He picked up the jug and swirled the contents. He furrowed his brow as he looked at the high priestess. She could see him coming to the same conclusion as her. She was not one for arithmetic, but that had been roughly five hundred years. He had been trapped inside that stone for that long. Nothing changed in his expression, but that same pressure she had felt in the shrine weighed on her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  Perhaps the high priestess felt it as well, because she gasped. "Forgive us, my lord, we did not know it was you who slumbered inside the holy object."

  "There is no need to grovel, Chiyoko. I may not be your god of the mountain, but your songs eased my long slumber. Please rise and share my sake wine with me." He held out his hand to her, beckoning her towards him with the crook of his finger.

  The head priestess raised her head and tears brimmed on her lashes. "My lord, I am not worthy." She placed her hands flat on the ground in front of her, nearly flattening herself on the floor.

  Suzume sighed and rolled her eyes. It was all too dramatic. She reached for the sake. If they were going to continue to carry on in this manner, she too was going to need a drink. As she reached for the jug, the second's hand darted out and knocked Suzume's aside. They spilled the sake, which soaked into the tatami flooring. The air stank of alcohol. Suzume raised her own hand to slap the second for daring to strike her.

  "You idiot girl, that was for the lord Dragon." The second glared at her. She had few wrinkles, despite being middle aged, but for the hard lines around her mouth as if she spent her entire life frowning.

  Suzume lowered her arm, remembering her place once again. Suzume glared at the second and rubbed her hand. You will pay for this, believe me. The Dragon has chosen me and I will see you punished.

  From the corner of her eye, Suzume noticed the Dragon watching her. That same tingling sensation zinged over her skin. It was not painful, more like the sensation of a limb falling asleep, but her entire body felt that way, but also poised alert and focused on every move the Dragon made.

  He turned back to the second. "You are Zakuro, I believe. What gives you the right to hit my bride?"

  The second's head popped up, her eyes wide and terrified. She opened and closed her mouth, fumbling with a reply.

  The Dragon reached over and grabbed Suzume by the nape of her neck and squeezed. Sparks bristled along her skin where he touched, but she was too busy gloating over the second to really notice. Suzume smirked at the second. He has chosen me as his bride, and to think I could have settled for a general. Now I am the bride of a dragon! Even if he was a fake, it still put her in a most advantageous position. It made her superior to these women. She was on her way back to where she had been before she was exiled. I may be even better placed. I do not know anyone who married a dragon. She could not keep the grin from her face. I cannot wait to see the courtiers' looks when I return with him.

  "My lord," Zakuro said, having found her voice, "she is not in actuality your bride but a servant of the mountain god, and at your own admission, you are not him."

  He smiled at Zakuro and tightened his grip upon Suzume's nape. Suzume gasped in pain. His touch felt like ice, and her body seemed to respond to it by burning; the sparks from before had been fanned into flames. The Dragon did not seem to notice. "Well, that is a shame since there is no mountain god. There never was."

  The shrine maidens gasped and then nervous whispers filled the room.

  "How can you say that when our sisterhood has protected this place for generations? Just because you were sealed in the holy object does not mean the mountain god does not exist!" Zakuro shouted. She rose up to her feet and pointed at the Dragon.

  He released Suzume and she rubbed her neck where his nails had left half-moon indents on her pale skin. The Dragon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, as his narrowed eyes focused on Zakuro. Suzume wanted to triumph over her mistake, but the pressure she'd felt before was building, closing her windpipe. She clutched at her chest; when she looked down at her hands, red sparks flew off her skin. What is happening to me?

  "Because this is my mountain and my realm. I have been here since before you humans had the ability of speech. I have watched you crawl out of holes in the ground, build palaces and kill one another. I am the lord of this island!" When he spoke, thunder seemed to roll from his throat and a menacing aura hung about him. The shrine maidens recoiled and scurried to the back of the room, huddling together. One of the younger girls cried out.

  Only the high priestess, Zakuro, and Suzume did not flinch. Suzume focused on breathing. This pressure was immense and she could only guess it came from the Dragon, and when he was not pleased, she felt it. The high priestess had her eyes closed as she muttered under her breath. Zakuro stood very still, staring at the Dragon as if in a trance.

  After a few tense moments, she bowed her head. "Forgive me, my lord."

  He sat back, seemingly appeased. The pressure receded and Suzume gasped for breath. He did not so much as flicker his gaze in her direction. The head priestess opened her eyes once more. Now Suzume was sure she could sense the Dragon's feelings as Suzume did, but she seemed to have more control than Suzume.

  "Shall we entertain you, my lord?" the high priestess asked.

  "Yes, that would please me. And bring more sake."

  Three girls jumped to fetch more sake and another came to sit before Suzume and the Dragon. She was young and pretty, with eyes lowered demurely. "I would sing if it pleases, my lord Dragon," she said.

  "It would," he replied. The Dragon smiled in a way Suzume knew all too well. She glared at the young woman, who wanted to take Suzume's place.

  The young priestess started to sing. The Dragon watched her, enthralled.

  Suzume leaned close to his ear. "My lord, you are very powerful. I am surprised you were trapped for so long."

  He turned towards her and storm clouds seemed to be gathering in his eyes. Suzume swore she saw lightning flash in his dark pupils. "Yes, as am I." His words sent a chill down her spine.

  She had to keep his attention. She knew men--the moment the next pretty young thing fluttered their way, they were lost. She would not lose this opportunity.

  "How did it happen?"

  He had turned to face her entirely now and she had to fight a smile. She knew asking about his past would flatter him.

  "A priestess tricked me."

  She laughed; she thought it had been a joke. But the storm clouds gathering in his eyes turned them an icy blue. She had made a terrible mistake, but she had also gone too far now to back down and asked with an arched brow, "You were sealed by a mere human?"

  The Dragon smiled and rested his elbow on his knee and regarded her. "You are testing my patience. Perhaps my bride has tired of her ceremonial feast and wishes to make our union an official one? Though I must warn you, dragons often kill their lovers in the heat of passion. The sensation and the taste of a woman has been known to drive them to madness."

  How dare he say such things to me and without any remorse! A burning blush branded her neck and cheeks. She was fortunate the shrine maiden's singing drowned out their conversation. She hoped the white face paint was disguising her discomfort. No matter how he tried, she would not be cowed by this dragon. "Perhaps we should tempt the fates and see if it is true," Suzume replied.

  He laughed a barking laugh and the moment was finished. Suzume thanked her quick tongue for saving her. Now his attention had returned to Zakuro and the high priestess as a shrine maiden brought him a new jug of sake.

  "The woman who began your order, what was her name?" he asked


  "The oldest recorded high priestess is Fujikawa Kazue, my lord," High Priestess Chiyoko replied.

  The clay pot shattered in his hand and the shards fell onto the woven mats and the sake dribbled down over his fingers. A thin line of blood mixed with the milky liquid and pooled on the ground and stained the mats.

  "Is that the woman, my lord, the one who defeated the Dragon and imprisoned him in a tiny stone?" Suzume asked and the silence that followed was deafening. She thought they had come to an understanding, a playful jesting, being equals. She could not have been more wrong. She could hear her blood pumping in her ears. The tingling sensation was back and it shouted a warning--run! Then the Dragon turned on Suzume. He pushed her back against the tatami mats and pressed his forearm to her throat.

  "Do not pretend to know me, girl. You are my servant, and if I want your opinion or thoughts, I will ask for them. Is that understood?" His voice echoed in the chamber and the walls shook with the force of his anger.

  Suzume wiggled beneath his grasp and struggled for air. The red sparks jumped off her skin, colliding with blue sparks that came off his flesh. She had pretended not to be afraid of him before, but now she did not give any such pretense.

  "I am keeping you alive because you amuse me, but if you overstep your bounds again, I will not hesitate to kill you."

  He eased off her windpipe and she rubbed her throat, glowering at him as he rose to his feet. Her skin was warm to the touch and all the hair along her arm stood on end.

  "I wish to spend time in solitude," he announced before he strode out of the room.

  Once he was gone, the high priestess and the second turned on Suzume.

  "You idiot girl!" the high priestess shouted. "How dare you speak to our lord in such a way."

  "You are fortunate he did not kill you," Zakuro added, though Suzume suspected it would not be a loss to her if she had perished.

  "You would be glad to be rid of me, I am sure. You may think the cast-off daughter does not make for an ideal priestess, but you cannot deny the truth, I was the one to awaken the Dragon! I broke the seal and I have been here less than a fortnight while you have toiled and devoted your lives to a god that does not exist. I exposed the truth and it is me he has chosen as his bride." She lifted her chin in a show of regal superiority and then glided out of the room. The other shrine maidens watched her go, their expressions ranging from disgust to something akin to awe.

  Good, she thought, let them realize who I am. My father may have set me aside, but that does not change the fact that I am a princess, and as such I am better than them. It only makes sense that my spiritual powers would awaken the Dragon.

  Suzume closed the sliding door behind her and hurried down the hallway. Her mind raced. No matter how she tried to explain it, she could not convince herself. Never in her seventeen years of life had she ever shown the slightest indication of spiritual power. If she had, she would have been sent to the White Palace shrine to learn the ways of the royal priestesses. She might have one day been equal to that of the emperor. She would not have been sent to this remote temple, set aside to be forgotten.

  A hand darted out from the darkness and grabbed Suzume by the wrist. She twirled in place and attempted to break free but could not. She was pulled forward and collided with a firm chest. He held her arms at her sides and breathed across her neck, and the small hairs at her nape stood on end along with the all too familiar crackle of energy that seemed to come along with being near him.

  "Come to my chamber, my bride. It is our wedding night, after all."

  Chapter Three

  The Dragon's hands burned Suzume's flesh and sparks erupted wherever his fingers brushed exposed skin. She was immobile, transfixed by his touch and the breath that caressed her skin. His lips brushed against the sensitive space behind her ear and his hands captured her wrists and pulled back her sleeves, revealing her forearms. Her heart beat faster. Despite what he may think, she was a virgin. Her father, the emperor, would have done more than banish her if her purity were not intact. Her value lay in her chastity. Though she was known to be flirtatious, she knew her place and what that entailed. Illicit affairs were not permitted.

  Does it matter now? I will never be a real bride. My father annulled the marriage contract to General Tsubaki. Deep down, she had hoped she would one day return to the White Palace. Perhaps that had been naive of her to think that.

  The Dragon pulled Suzume into a chamber. The sliding doors at the back faced out onto the mountain range, which glowed blue beneath the night sky. The Dragon trailed his hand along her hair and set the charms on the pins to jingling. Then, with a fluid movement, he withdrew the pins and her hair tumbled down and cascaded over her shoulders.

  He turned her to face him. She felt exposed with her hair in a jumble and her makeup smeared. Before coming here, she would never have let someone see her this way. Her meetings with General Tsubaki had always been through a screen, and when her admirers had come at late hours, there was a fan covering her face. Where she rejected almost all other conventions, she liked that. It was a shield and a way to keep others from seeing the real her. That's how she preferred things. This Dragon had stripped her bare of all her masks in just a few simple movements.

  He cupped her cheek and leaned in close. His lips ghosted over hers but did not touch them. She inhaled his breath and closed her eyes, waiting for the tender touch. She felt at once desire and fear for what could transpire here. The burning fire built in her gut, radiating to all her limbs. I am his bride; did he not declare me so? This is an even more fortunate placement. I am above the emperor himself, as the bride of a dragon! Her body betrayed her and she trembled beneath his touch.

  He pulled away and she felt the loss of him and mourned it. She slowly opened her eyes and looked into the deep depths of his inhuman eyes, brown but ringed with blue. He hosted a crooked smile on his face.

  "How did you release me?" he whispered.

  His voice was coaxing, and lulled by his touch and the burning desire in her gut, she found her usual quick wit muddled and slow. She opened her mouth and words escaped her. She swallowed and then tried to coerce her dry tongue into working. "As I said before, the seal was weak. I sensed that and released you."

  He tilted his head and his smile grew wider. "Then I owe you a debt of thanks, let me." His hand brushed along her collar and her trembles became shivers. The cold from his touch brushed against her skin, and if any frost thought to linger, the fever of her skin melted it. His hand slid along her collar and moved down to her chest, pushing aside the heavy fabric of her white kimono. She was short of breath and every inch of her trained on him, wondering what he would do next.

  He pulled her close and snaked his hand around to her back. He pulled on the cords around her sash, which kept it in place. It pulled loose easily and with it the sash underneath came undone. She felt as if she too were losing control, unraveling as he pulled off each layer, a bit of her reservation sliding away with it. He undid the layers of sash that had belted her into the robe. They fell to the ground and pooled there. If his hand had not been on her waist, she would have joined them. Her knees felt like water.

  He turned her around and unwound the outer layers of the robe. Her entire body was made of flame at this point; she was surprised she did not burn him to cinders, she felt so hot and malleable. Her heart beat erratically in her chest. He could do anything he wanted with her as far as she was concerned. It was the anticipation that was killing her.

  His gazed burned upon her and she felt the need to disrupt the silence. "What you said before about killing lovers, you were teasing, were you not?" She hated how afraid and weak she sounded.

  He stopped pulling off her layers of robes and turned her to face him. He cupped her hands in his face.

  "I am serious, my bride, but since you have strong spiritual power, you will be able to shield yourself, so it does not matter."

  Suzume's eyes grew wide. Does he suspect? How could he? There's no way
he could know. The Dragon slid the second to last layer off her, leaving her in only a thin underlayer. A breeze from the open doors blew through her and she hugged her arms close to her body, afraid to let him near. She was cold suddenly; the fire had ebbed and the foggy intoxicated feeling had sharpened into suspicion. What is wrong with me, I never let myself get carried away like this before. When he leaned in to kiss her, she turned her head away, in case his kiss too could be deadly.

  "Why so shy, my bride? This is our wedding night. Are you not meant to give yourself to me?" He grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. Once more he had that infernal smirk.

  He does know! He is testing me! She would not let this go further, not if she were to keep her purity. Now that the haze of desire faded, she could see clearly. The Dragon thought to play a trick on her, take her purity, play with her as he will. Whatever it was, two could play at this game.

  "I was thinking about what Zakuro said." She lowered her lashes in a perfect imitation of a demure woman. It had always been a favorite of General Tsubaki. Playing the shy maiden had practically won her the marriage contract. Men love a weak woman.

  "Forget what that hag said," he replied. "You gave yourself to me with a pure heart and freed me from my prison; you are my bride."

  He pulled her close again, but Suzume pushed him away and ran towards the open doors overlooking the valley below. This was also a long-practiced tactic. The chase had always stirred the general's desires while giving her the space to keep him at bay, and malleable as clay in her hands.

  The wind that came blowing off the mountains had a bite to it. Wearing nothing more than a thin underlayer, her flesh prickled or maybe that was his touch on her shoulders that caused that. She never knew someone's hands could be so cold.

  She ignored him for a moment, staring at the mountains. The clouds had rolled back and the snowcapped peaks looked iridescent under the full moon. She turned to the side, letting moonlight fall on her skin, lending it the same ethereal glow. Manipulating natural lighting to her advantage had become an art form at the White Palace.