Master of Dragons by Angela Knight

dragon hadn’t interfered…
    As his men gated in around him, he stalked to the huge window that ran the length of the level and looked out over the ocean a hundred feet below. He’d chosen these cliffs as the perfect location for his fortress because they lay on the other side of the planet from the Cachamwri and Morven kingdoms.
    And he’d chosen well. Ansgar had never been able to find Arralt’s rebel stronghold—and his murderous father had definitely looked. Given the strength of the wards that surrounded them, the dragon’s luck would be no better.
    In stark contrast to the darkness of the mortal hemisphere they’d just left, the sun was well up here, sparkling on the deep blue waves. Looking down at the narrow strip of beach below, he spotted an incautious mermaid sunning herself on the rocks, her bare breasts lifted, her head thrown back, spilling her iridescent hair over the black stone.
    Arralt curled his lip. She’d best keep her wits about her. Hunting the Mer was one of his army’s favorite sports.
    For a moment he considered gating down to take out his frustrated rage on her. His cock hardened at the thought, but he reluctantly decided against it. He needed to report to Varza. She’d be unhappy enough as it was.
    As he turned toward the stone passage that led to his partner’s quarters, his gaze fell on a cluster of warriors. They stood with heads together, eyeing him uneasily. Knowing a budding conspiracy when he saw one, Arralt diverted to confront them. “Does someone have something to say?” His voice was low and pleasant, but several of his veterans flinched.
    One of the newer recruits, however, did not have the experience to recognize his mood. “My lord, there was a dragon.” His tone was earnest, his clear gaze troubled.
    â€œAye.” Arralt leveled his coldest, flattest stare at the puppy.
    Who still didn’t have the sense to shut up. “The legends say the Avatar of the Goddess and a dragon warrior will free Semira from the sword. Shouldn’t we…”
    â€œWhat? Give that reptile the sword?” Arralt pumped contempt into his voice. “Hand our goddess over to Llyr? Because you may be sure that usurper is behind this. He had his ‘god’ send one of those lizards in an attempt to fool us.” He scanned them all with an icy gaze and watched as even the puppy cringed. “The sword of the goddess belongs in the hands of her people, and her people will free her.”
    â€œBut the legend!” The puppy’s voice was very faint. “Semira herself predicted…”
    â€œAccording to whom? It’s been thousands of years. The legend probably began with some addled old woman and grew in the telling.” In turn, he met the eyes of each warrior, searching for the seeds of rebellion and disbelief. He needed every man he had, but he’d kill without mercy or hesitation if necessary. “Llyr knows of the legend, and he’s trying to use it against us. Or perhaps you want to be ruled by that weakling and his werewolf bitch?” The white-faced young warrior made no answer. Arralt roared, “Do you?”
    â€œNo, my lord!” The words sounded reassuringly fervent. “You are our rightful king.”
    â€œYou have our loyalty, my lord.” It was one of his veterans, a scarred, hard-eyed Sidhe who obviously recognized the danger of the moment. He turned toward the others. “Lift your voices for our future king!”
    As one, the men roared. “Arralt! Arralt! Arralt!”
    The puppy shouted loudest, Arralt noted with grim satisfaction.
    Good. It wouldn’t be necessary to kill the whelp. His life would be better spent in battle anyway.
    Not that Arralt wasn’t tempted. Anger still surged in his blood, and he’d like nothing better than to gut the fool where he stood. But one did not waste assets on a whim.
    He gave his men a curt nod, then turned and